Author Notes:

I'd like to thank a few people for supporting me. TriCat, ThatWolfNyla and CawAreYouDoing. Thanks for the regular feedback on AO3.

If you're still reading here, please leave a review! I love to read them.

Webber was asleep when the radio turned itself on, the crackling of static filling his room. The young boy's eyes fluttered open at the sound, a groan coming from his throat. "Wha?"

"Sorry to wake you kid."

"Mr Maxwell?"

"The one and the same." Webber sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes. What time was it?

"You gotta be quiet Mr Maxwell, can't have mum coming in."

"You're right. Can't have her interrupt us again."

"What did you need help with mister?" The boy reached across his bedside table, grabbing the radio and holding it in his lap.

"Something of mine is a little broken. I need it fixed."

"What thing?"

"My door. You walked past it earlier." He did? The only door he remembered passing were the ones in his own home. "It's a large wooden and metal door. Like-"

"The drawbridge!" The fog of sleep was starting to lift. Now he remembered the drawbridge thingy he saw in the basement. That was some kind of door after all!

"Yeah. My drawbridge needs fixing. Then, I'll owe you a favour. Tit for tat." With a yawn the boy nodded, sounded easy enough. He wasn't a mechanic but he could try. Then again, he wasn't actually allowed inside the basement. He couldn't do much if he wasn't allowed in the room.

"Mum's banned me from the basement and the door's locked mister." There was a moment of silence. Did Mr Maxwell leave again?

"You'll have to find the key. No key, no door. No door, no help."

"I can't take the key mister…" Not from his mother. She was furious with him just being down there in the first place. To not only disobey her once, but twice and steal? If Webber ever wanted dessert or to go play with his friends again then he couldn't do that. "Mum was mad enough when she found me down there the first time. I can't help you."

"How about I help you first? Then you can help me."

"I don't need any help mister."

"Surely there's something you want kiddo. Maybe something for your mother?" Webber hadn't thought about that. He wanted to know more about the mysterious figures in his life. Who his father was and where he went. Was the man who owned all the stuff in the basement his father? How did he hurt his mother?

"Do you know who my father is? Is he the one that hurt mum?"

"Double barrelled question there. I know your father, he's the same man that made my door and hurt your dear mother."

"Who is he? Can he make mum not sad again?"

"You can meet him yourself if you help me."

"But I can't fix your door mister."

"Then there's nothing more I can do for you."

"No please! I want to know about dad!" The radio was silent, no static, nada. Webber shook it, desperation in his eyes. "Please sir!" Nothing at all. Webber huffed. It was rude to leave like that!

...

He tried to go back to sleep, he really did, but he couldn't. Webber found himself creeping into his mother's room instead. All the important things were kept in the draw by her bed, if there was going to be a key it would be there. Hopefully… Holding his breath, the ten-year-old carefully slid the draw open. The wood groaned and he winced, looking over at his sleeping mother. Her breath was regular and slow. Still asleep. Squinting in the inky-darkness he gently groped around for something key shaped. There were piles of paper, candles and a few odds and ends within the draw. Where was the key? Webber's hand brushed against something cold, a shout almost escaping him as he pulled out a small brass object. This was it! The young boy slipped out of his mother's room and grabbed the radio, heading to the basement.

The door closed behind the ten-year-old with a soft click and Webber turned on the lights. Like magic, the lights flickered to life. His mother would always tell him how she grew up without electricity. How she would have to manage candles and lanterns, watching how much of them she used. Webber couldn't imagine it, he always slept with a nightlight on in the corner of his room. To have to sleep in the pitch black? It didn't sit well with him. The dark was scary.

"Alright Mr Maxwell, I'm in the basement. Now what?" The boy sighed as he was met with silence. Was he gone forever? Movement caught his eye, a blur in the corner of his vision. The basement was quiet, too quiet. Webber suddenly didn't want to be there anymore. A panic begun to well up inside him; the sensation of eyes watching him making his heart pound. He was used to his own company, they lived in a semi-remote area and his friends only saw him occasionally. But this was too much. It was dark outside; he was doing something that could get him in huge trouble and his friend in the radio was gone. He had no idea how to fix the drawbridge anyway Why did he go down here?! Something metal clattered to the ground just out of sight. Morbid curiosity tugged at him from the very back of his mind. "H-hello?" Webber wasn't sure if someone answering him would be better than silence… a few tense moments passed and the boy let out a shaky sigh. There was absolutely nothing there, he was scared of nothing. There was no such thing as monsters. The child muttered those words over and over; something his mother had said when he found himself frightened of the dark.

Plastering on a brave face, Webber went over to the piles of paper, surely there was a clue somewhere in these pictures. There were strange structures, honeycombs with bits of the alphabet on them, some rats with weird shapes on their belly. Just as the child was about to give up, a piece of paper was disturbed. Webber grabbed it before it made its way into some forgotten corner. "I got it!" Thank the draft because it found the drawbridge for him, now all he had to do was understand the pictures. They were some pieces missing from the picture, he'd work on finding those first!

...

It took him a while to find the missing pieces among the clutter, but he did it! A valve had fallen off, along with some springy bits. Webber did his best to make it look exactly like the pictures. Once everything was in place, he took a moment to step back and cock his head at the structure. Why did Maxwell want this fixed? What did it do? Webber ran his hand over the metal, it felt cold, but not just that, no, it sent a shiver down his spine. "Mr Maxwell, I fixed it. Can you help me now? Please?" The radio crackled and the boy's heart skipped a beat.

"Well done. I knew you could do it. You have to test it now."

"Can you please just tell me who hurt mum so I can get them to fix it? I don't like it down here." The boy swore he kept seeing shapes ducking in and out his vision.

"I can do even better, remember? I can show you, all you have to do is pull the lever on the drawbridge over there."

"How's that going to show me who it is?"

"It's magic."

"Really?"

"One hundred percent." Putting the radio down, Webber took hold of the lever. Maybe he should wait until his mother could watch or maybe one of his friends, they could work together. "Hurry up and pull the switch!" The sudden snappy tone made the young boy jump and look back at the radio with a scowl.

"Don't yell at me!"

"Webber?!" The child's eyes widened. That was his mother. She was going to be furious. He was going to be in one heck of a lot of trouble.

"Last chance kid. If you pull that switch your mother won't have to worry about you asking about your father ever again." Webber looked between the radio and the door. Getting in trouble would be worth it if he could find out who hurt his mother and made them fix things. So, he pulled it. Gears whirred and sparks flew off of the structure. It increased in size, folding out like some nightmarish lawn chair. Fear swept through the child as a face looked down at him with a wicked grin. Everything seemed to stop. Something grabbed Webber by the leg and he screamed. An inky hand had emerged from the ground, followed by another that grabbed his arm.

"MUM!" Words were whispered into his ears, shapes darting around the room. His world spun and faded to black.

xX~~~Xx

Quinn stirred from her sleep with the sound of voices. Probably Webber having a dream or nightmare. The half-asleep mother swung her legs out from the bed and made her way down the hall to her son's room. The door was already open, the soft glow of his nightlight revealing the empty bed within.

As if someone had slapped her across the face, Quinn was suddenly awake.

Her son was not in bed. Then his voice came from elsewhere in the house, a shout. "Webber?!" She thundered out of the room, making her way down the hall. The sound of heavy machinery began to echo through the halls; causing her to quicken her pace. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she could see the light of the basement coming from under the door. Her boy screamed, shouting for her. All that mattered was getting down there. She skipped steps on her way, almost falling flat on her face more than once. Throwing open the door, she heard the sound of shattering glass, something in the room powering down, the radio crackling on the ground. "Webber?" Thoughts began to race through her mind, climbing over one-another in a jumbled mess. "Webber?!" The mother's attention went to the window, had someone or something been in here? Did her baby go out the window to avoid her? "Webber! Please! Say something!" Quinn began to rummage through the junk in the room, casting anything large enough for her child to hide behind to the side. "Webber! Please come out! I'm not angry!" He wasn't here. Running to the window she looked out. No blood, no cuts. That was a good sign, right? But... Did someone take him? He had screamed for her. The gap was large enough to fit though. Oh god someone had taken her baby. Her heart was pounding in her chest; she needed to look for him outside.

Quinn ran as fast as she could up the staircase and to the front door. The air outside was cold but not frigid, yet Quinn quivered like a leaf in a hurricane. "Webber!" The stone turned to grass as she walked further into the yard, moist earth giving way underfoot. "Webber?!" She just wanted her baby to be okay. She NEEDED to know he was okay. "WEBBER?!" There was a vast expanse of nothing. Maybe she was over reacting. Maybe he was just hiding in the house. Turning on her heel, Quinn made her way back inside. One of the maids had woken up and was looking at her master, perturbed. "Webber, honey! Please come here! You can have as much dessert as you want if you do!"

"Ma'am, might I ask what's the matter?"

"F-find my boy Mary." Concern filled the young maid's face but she stood still, unsure of how to respond. "NOW MARY!" Soon both women were running from room to room, waking up the few members of staff to aid in their search.

...

Quinn searched in a hysteric frenzy, tears streaming from her eyes; it took all three of the maids to force her to sit down as they contacted the authorities. How could her boy vanish like that? He mentioned a voice on the radio. Someone must have taken him. He had screamed for her and she only glanced outside. She should have looked harder, she should have run out further, find whoever took her baby boy. Her poor Webber, scared and alone, with a stranger. Maybe it was Wilson. What did he want with her boy? What would he DO with her boy?! Anger and fear whirled inside her gut. Whoever did this would be sorry, sorry they ever messed with her sweet boy. She'd mount their fucking head over the fucking mantle.

This is better formatted and more up to date on AO3! Same name, same title, same writing.