Disclaimer—Characters belong to Nick Santora and Matt Olmstead. No copyright infringement intended. Any similarity to events or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Author's Notes—This was my first foray into BOK... my second posting here. Go figure. Un-beta'ed.

Runaway—Lloyd, Ray, and Charlie deal with a different kind of runner.

Two weeks had gone by without a case. Lloyd Lowery supposed that a jail break couldn't happen every day. It took a certain amount of skill and planning to pull off a successful escape. Not everyone incarcerated could be, well, that smart. But, for every grueling hour that went by without an escape, that meant Lloyd was incarcerated himself within the walls of Maybelle Minimum Security Prison in Hudson, New York.

Prison was, at times, fascinating to him. His analytical mind enjoyed the occasional intriguing case among the fellow inmates, but he'd much prefer to be on the outside, to be working. The escaped convict cases were far more interesting, plus there was an added benefit for him—the more work he did, the shorter his sentence became.

He sighed deeply when the light's-out order was given, and his cell was bathed in semi-darkness. Maybe that night someone, somewhere, would be brave enough and stupid enough to run, and he would have a few precious hours of freedom—to feel important and needed.

No sooner had he stretched out on his cot and closed his eyes did he hear footsteps of the determined variety, of boots on concrete. It wasn't just the usual rounds. Hope gripped him for a split second, and it grew as the steps came ever closer to his cell.

Sitting up, he smiled to himself when the door was buzzed open and a guard stood before him, mildly annoyed.

"On your feet, Lowery."

Lloyd stood and begrudgingly accepted the handcuffs as they were placed over his wrists. He knew it was all for show, for the others. As soon as he and the rest of his team, the Breakout Kings, were outside, he knew he'd be free of the restraints again, at least for a little while. He was relatively silent on the walk to the driveway, where the work-release van was surely waiting. He wondered idly why they didn't stop by Shea Daniels' cell, excepting, perhaps given the hour, they assumed it would be best to gather them separately.

When he stepped into the night, he saw an African-American but it wasn't Shea, as he expected. Instead, it was Charlie DuChamp standing there by a sleek black SUV.

"I ranked a personal visit?" Lloyd asked. "After visiting hours? Wow, how'd I manage that?"

Charlie didn't answer him. "Uncuff him, please, officer."

The guard reluctantly freed Lloyd, who immediately set to rolling his hands and rubbing at his wrists. "He's all yours," the guard grumbled.

"C'mon, Lowery. We gotta go."

"Go? Go where? And what about Shea and Erica?" he asked, glancing back as the guard disappeared within the prison and the door gave a familiar clanking sound as it closed behind him.

"Special assignment. Just you this time," Charlie said as Lloyd climbed into the front passenger seat.

Lloyd had always known he was far more important than the other members of the Breakout Kings, and this certainly confirmed his suspicions. As Charlie maneuvered through the labyrinth of Maybelle, showing his badge at all of the guard stations to get out, Lloyd finally asked: "So, what is it? Some spectacular headcase? Oooh... Or maybe it's a rough and tumble interrogation?"

Charlie sighed. "It's Julianne."

Lloyd nearly choked on his own words. "Com-come a-again?"

"Ray's with her now, at HQ. We're not sure what's happened, but she's not talking to us. She panics every time we suggest taking her to the hospital."

"She's hurt?" Lloyd asked, worried.

"She's favoring her left arm. Won't let either of us see it."

The doctor's mind raced, going through her self-professed phobias and the ones he imagined had gone undiagnosed by other so-called psychological experts. "What..." He shook his head, trying again. "I mean, what happened? You guys were working a case and she just... she just flipped out?"

Charlie was quiet for a long moment.

It was entirely too long for Lloyd's taste, especially as one block stretched into three. "Well?" he prompted.

Slowly, the Marshal told him. "Julianne was missing for two days. About two hours ago, she showed up at the HQ all on her own. She's been sitting in the corner of the office ever since."

Julianne watched as Ray paced. The bald Marshal, tough as nails, hated being powerless, she knew. It was just that every time he asked her a question, every time he begged her for information, she froze. She couldn't get her mouth to work. Every look of frustration, of worry from him troubled her. She wanted to talk to him, but she found she just couldn't.

He paused in what felt like his hundredth lap in front of her, where she sat, curled in a ball in the corner. Her normally perfectly coiffed hair had partially fallen. Her face, usually porcelain-looking, wasn't, with her mascara smudged and a swipe or two of dirt on her cheeks. Her clothes were dusty, dirty. "Jules, let me help you, huh? Let me kick the ass of whoever hurt you. Tell me who took you, who did... who did whatever to you. Because, I guarantee you, they'll regret it."

Julianne appreciated his offer, but she knew he'd never understand, even if she could get her mouth to work right. She looked down at her shaking hands, at the dusty floor. She just wanted to somehow erase the last two, three days. She often felt that way, that her screw-ups outweighed whatever good she'd done. She wanted, desperately, to undo all that she'd been through and, clearly, what she'd made Ray and Charlie go through, too.

She gasped and jumped when the heavy sliding door opened. Charlie walked in first, followed slowly by Lloyd.

Lloyd was already in street clothes, in blue jeans and sneakers, in a tee shirt and a jacket to help keep the chill in the drafty old building at bay.

She noted well that even Lloyd seemed concerned. Wishing she could burrow further into the corner, or deep within the ground, she just wanted do disappear.

Ray crossed to Lloyd, lowering his voice. "So help me, Lowery, if you hurt her, I will break you."

"I assure you," Lloyd returned quietly, "that we are on the same team here."

Charlie nodded at Ray, who let the convict pass him.

Lloyd offered Julianne the tiniest of smiles, though she never saw it. "Hi, Julianne. Is it all right if I sit with you?" He could tell she was agitated. Her breathing was shallow and erratic. "You don't have to say anything. I can talk enough for the both of us. I'd just like to sit with you, maybe share some of the responsibility in holding up the wall." He patted the sturdy brick. "Is that okay?"

While she still refused to look up, she offered a weak, one-shouldered shrug.

Lloyd eased down, making sure she had plenty of space to herself. He didn't want to add to her situation, her psychosis. But he knew, too, that it was less confrontational to sit beside someone than across from them.

Under the watchful eyes of Ray and Charlie, Lloyd had a feeling she wouldn't open up to him, not like he hoped. Their anxiousness was palatable. "It is a really nice night out there, all things considered. Clear sky. The city lights can be something else. Inspiring, sometimes."

Julianne cast a quick glance at him. His hair, as always, was only slightly disheveled. Compulsion wanted her to reach out and run her fingers through it, making it more presentable. Fear, however, kept her deep within herself, in her safe corner.

While Lloyd was fairly certain she was looking at him, he didn't dare turn to see her, not yet. "Y'know, that's the interesting thing about time. Every twenty-four hours, you get to try all over again, to right the wrongs you did the day before, to make some kind of amends for previous acts. Our whole lives are based around this... this Scarlet O'Hara idea, that 'tomorrow is another day.' It's kind of freeing, in a way. Every twenty-four hours, you get another shot, another chance. You get an opportunity, really, to be brave, to be smart, to be good."

She looked down again and closed her eyes. She lived her life in a near constant state of fear. The shadows that surrounded her threatened to consume her. She hated feeling helpless but she didn't know how to battle back those emotions. She tried, she fought hard, but it was never enough. Drawing her knees to her chest, she rested her chin atop them.

"I know it's a challenge for you. It's a challenge for all of us. That's the secret. That's the big thing, the elephant in the room. Even for Charlie and Ray..." Lloyd saw that the Marshals both looked up when they heard their names mentioned. "They're scared to death right now, just like you. Just like me."

She shook her head.

"I mean, they removed me from my cozy cell after light's out. If that's not fear, on their big, burly parts, then I really don't know what is."

"Don't."

Ray's eyes widened when he heard Julianne's soft voice. Charlie placed a hand on his partner's arm, however, to keep him from going toward their computer geek, their information specialist, their Jules.

"That's the unfortunate thing about feelings, isn't it?" Lloyd asked, finally turning to her. "No matter how someone else tells you how you should react, you react however your body, your mind, your whole self decides that you should react."

Julianne didn't look away this time, her dark eyes locking with Lloyd's light colored ones, seeing a kindness and a compassion within him. For all his faults, he must've been a great doctor once.

"Like... When Charlie told me that they hadn't seen you for two days... I felt this..." He lifted his hands from where they'd been resting on his knees and held them in front of his chest, tying his fingers into knots. "I felt this constriction... right here," he said, touching his shirt over his heart. "And then... It was followed by this dizzy spell," he said, reaching up to rub at his temple. "All these emotions tumbled through. It was an odd mix of anger and fear, betrayal and... feeling ill."

She lowered her eyes slightly.

"It's just because I'm worried about you, Julianne. I'd... I would've rather known right when it happened, instead of after the fact." He paused and lowered his voice even further, just loud enough for her to hear. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Her dark eyes darted furtively at him again, and she believed he was truly relieved, but she didn't exactly understand. "Why?"

Charlie smiled a little. In a matter of minutes, Lloyd had gotten her to speak. Twice. Even if he didn't always approve of his team, and their actions, for the first time, he was glad that Ray had insisted on including the doctor on the team.

"I don't know if you've noticed this before but I don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to... friends..." He shrugged. "I consider you to be one, whether you consider me to be one in return or not. A con man, a criminal. I know that my reputation is such that I'm not exactly a friend most would want to have."

She wasn't sure what she considered him. She wasn't sure what she considered any of them, even herself. "N-neither..." She struggled against her own indecision, her own insecurities as she finally managed to string together a sentence. "Neither a-am I."

"That's hardly true, Julianne. You're sweet and thoughtful. You excel at your job. Your knowledge is just impressive. Not that this is necessarily an indicator of what a good friend should be, but it's true nonetheless... You're also very pretty."

Charlie again restrained Ray when he heard Lloyd's light compliment.

Julianne tucked a few of the stray, stringy locks of hair behind her ear before shaking her head vehemently. She knew she wasn't, not at that moment, or any other, really. While she appeared to be on the verge of tears, none ever actually appeared.

Lloyd leaned toward her, ever so slightly. "I have found, in my experience, that it's the most beautiful, both inside and out, who shoot down comments made of their beauty. For whatever psychological reason, the truly stunning just can't accept that fact. It's not that it's a bad thing, in fact, it's a very good thing. An absence of vanity. See, if someone were to tell me that I was handsome, I would, of course, welcome the statement and tell them just how right they are. Not exactly the most beautiful of qualities in myself, is it?"

The very corner of her mouth turned up ever so slightly.

"So, keep shooting me down, Julianne. It will only verify my hypothesis."

She rubbed absently at her left arm, the one Charlie had said she was being so protective of.

"Are you hurt?"

She looked up quickly, startled before slowly shaking her head.

"Are you sure? I'd be happy to look at it, if you wanted me to..."

She swallowed hard, hesitating.

"I do anything you don't like, I have no doubt that Marshal Zancanelli over there will shoot me," he told her, glancing at Ray.

The Marshal in question got to his feet before Charlie could stop him, and he rested a hand on his holster.

"See?" Lloyd said, not exactly thrilled that Ray had taken him so seriously.

It was with great difficulty that Julianne spoke, but her voice, for the first time since arriving back at HQ was loud and clear. "No."

"No... no what?" Ray asked.

Lloyd tried to keep the annoyance from crossing his face as he spoke evenly: "Marshal, please sit down."

"You hurt her and I am shooting you," Ray confirmed.

Again, Julianne spoke, faster this time: "No!"

"Sit back down," Charlie said quietly. "Let the doctor work."

Ray shook his head. "I'm not lettin' Jules get hurt again. Not on my watch."

Lloyd looked to Charlie for help.

Julianne was shaking like a leaf, shoved further back into her corner since Ray had joined the conversation.

"Let's take a walk," Charlie said, getting to his feet.

"What? No," Ray said defiantly.

"Walking. Right now." Charlie refused to back down.

Off the nervous look in Julianne's eyes, aimed at him, Ray finally conceded.

Once the heavy door had slid open and closed once again, Lloyd could see some of the tension ease from Julianne's slim shoulders. Very cautiously, she offered him her arm.

Lloyd's nimble fingers began a cursory exam over her sleeve. The very last thing he wanted to do was upset her further, or invade her safe, security bubble. As he neared her elbow, he sensed some swelling, and heat, even through her clothes. She whimpered as he probed it gently. He stopped instantly. "Can you extend your arm for me at all?" he asked.

When she tried, she didn't get very far.

Given the condition of her wardrobe, he had a good guess. "Did you fall down at some point?"

She looked up at him cautiously.

"Were you pushed maybe?" He was glad that Charlie had taken Ray outside, as another outburst from the Marshal could've pushed back her tentative recovery.

As she averted her eyes, he eased to sit down right beside her.

"Julianne, if someone hurt you, even if it was accidental, I would like to know."

"What's wrong with my arm?" she asked quietly.

"I think it's sprained. Might be broken, a fracture of some kind, but we won't know for certain without an x-ray."

She nodded a little.

"My guess is that you didn't just lose your balance and fall over something. I'd imagine it would've been more of an ankle injury if you'd tripped."

She swallowed hard.

"Would you allow me to pose to you another hypothesis?"

She gave him a tiny nod.

"Something happened. You had an argument with someone. Given how overly overprotective Ray is behaving, he's my prime suspect. You took off to clear your head, but you quickly and quite accidentally left your comfort zone. You were in a place you didn't know, without knowledge of how to get back, and you were completely on your own. I've not seen your handbag since I walked in. Some gangbanger probably took it, and it has your ID, your money, and your cell phone in it. So, Ray's incessant calls went unanswered. Maybe he activated the GPS and it led him to some skeevy resale store. Maybe it didn't. But, because your purse had your driver's license with your home address printed on it, you aren't eager to go back there. You don't want to know what they've done to your place, if your computer is still there, if your valuables have been taken, or if your items in general have been rifled through, because you have a system and they've messed it up, in all likelihood."

Julianne looked up at him in awe.

"How am I doing so far?"

She shrugged a little noncommittally.

"So, no money, no phone, no comfort zone... You couldn't ask anyone for help even if you wanted to. No one knew you. New Yorkers are notorious city dwellers who always look the other way. So you were lost and turned around. And it took you until today to find your way back to the headquarters here. Now, as for the sprain... it either happened when you were trying to hold onto your purse and the mugger pushed you... or maybe you wandered across some homeless bum's territory, and he was someone suffering from his own psychological disorders including paranoia. When you ventured a touch too close to his dilapidated grocery cart, he shoved you and you landed funny on your elbow. Or, maybe, because of a mix of hunger, dehydration and sleep deprivation, you just keeled over and injured it. But, my money is on one of the first two options."

"That's uncanny," she whispered.

He smiled a little. "We still need to get you checked out, get your arm taken care of," he reminded her tenderly.

"I don't... I don't want to leave here," she whispered.

He glanced over at her.

For the first time, she realized just how close he was to her.

"What would make you feel safe?" he asked. "What if we called the hospital and we could wheel you straight from the car to radiology? What if Ray and Charlie took you, lights and sirens, one on either side of you, stayed by you the whole time?"

She wasn't sure.

"You're probably going to need an IV, Julianne, some fluids." The lack of tears earlier concerned him. If she hadn't been found... He banished that thought quickly.

"Does that mean I'll have to be admitted?" she asked, wincing.

Lloyd did the only thing that came to mind at the moment. He covered her right hand with his.

Her eyes closed at the contact and relief washed over her.

"I can..." He paused. "I can go with you, if you would like," he said hesitatingly. "Ray tells me I'm excellent at speaking 'hospital.'"

She nodded.

Ray watched through the window into Julianne's room from the hallway as the sunlight began to filter through the curtains on the exterior wall. Her skin had been scrubbed of the makeup and the city's grime. While she was pale, the bags beneath her eyes weren't.

Her left elbow had been sprained, just as Lloyd had diagnosed, and she'd been given an IV of saline solution to take care of the dehydration he had also accurately called.

For the first time in two days, she was finally getting some sleep.

What bothered him, though, was the lanky, shaggy-haired man folded into the guest seat. Lloyd had watched over her, keeping her informed of what the doctors were doing, translating for her and for Ray and Charlie. While he appreciated Lloyd's expertise, he didn't like that Julianne was that dependent upon one of the "animals." Lloyd was a criminal, a bad man. And the very last thing that Ray wanted was for her to get hurt by a felon.

Yawning, Charlie ambled over with two cups of steaming black coffee. "You slept at all since she left?"

Ray accepted the mug Charlie offered. "Not so much."

"Get outta here. Go get some rest."

"I'm not leaving her alone with him."

Charlie glanced in, to see Lloyd's head at an awkward angle, his chin balanced on his closed fist. They both seemed to be resting peacefully. "She won't be alone. I'll be here, too. Get outta here, Ray, really. Go home."

Home wasn't so much a home, anyway. "She left because I was an ass to her."

"You're an ass to everybody," Charlie said, very matter-of-fact. "That's not exactly news."

"I brought her on this team. She's a civilian. I feel responsible for her."

"Yeah, well, I'm in charge. I'm absolving you of this task for now, okay? No one could've predicted what happened to her. Let's be thankful for the results we got." After all, it could've been much worse.

Ray grimaced. "Yeah."

"She's okay, Ray."

"Lowery needs a ride back to Hudson..."

"And I'll get him there. Don't worry."

"Don't leave her alone here," Ray said again, more of a begging plea than an order or a request.

"I'll take care of the team," Charlie said definitively. "And right now, that means sending you home."

With a sigh, Ray looked once more into Julianne's room. Relatively satisfied, he removed the holster from his belt and gave it to Charlie. "Call me when she wakes."

Charlie dipped his head in return and watched as Ray thundered down the hall. He took a slow breath as he sipped his coffee. Lloyd was good with Julianne, better than he could've imagined. It was only out of desperation that he'd gone to get the convict. Without Lloyd's assistance, though, he had a feeling they'd still be in the HQ, probably dealing with a full-blown psychotic break.

As he looked through the window, he realized that maybe his team wasn't as troubling as he'd initially thought. Maybe, by the time the assignments were through, the cons would be productive citizens again. Or, maybe that was his sleep deprivation doing the thinking.

End.