River hadn't snatched the sticky note like Ezekiel had, only picked it up after the officer had put it down. He left them alone after that, likely being able to sense the two boys were about at their breaking point. It was all very new, and very stressful. The two didn't quite know how to cope with everything aside from clutching to one another. It was the only thing they'd had for as long as they could remember, and without that security, all hell was likely to break loose. River sought more of that security with the taste of Ezekiel's lips, and the older boy held him tight, clenching his eyes to hold back the frustrating tears that started at the corners of his eyes. River always made things better, and the taste of the other boy was exactly what he needed in that moment.<br/><br/>“I'd never let anyone do that,” Ezekiel assured. “I've never let it happened before. It's not going to happen now.” His words were low too, and he was careful what he said out loud. Just because Watson wasn't there it didn't mean that he didn't have some way to listen. “If we don't talk about it ever, they can't.” Father Lamont said they'd get in trouble if they weren't careful, and it appeared to them that he was speaking truth, especially with the invasive way the officer was trying to father information. If they never spoke of it, they couldn't keep them forever. And really, Ezekiel didn't care if they did, so long as they remained unsepareted.<br/><br/>“I don't think this is a trick. Our parents.. they don't know anything. Probably don't remember us. They won't want us, not really,” Ezekiel told River, not understanding why his heart seemed to ache at the notion. He didn't want them either. They were as good as strangers. River was what was important.<br/><br/>“I don't want this happening again. I want to be able to leave.” Ezekiel was frowning, unsure what to do in the situation.<br/><br/>“I remember they were nice. Maybe they will get us out of here, and we can go. They weren't strict.” What Ezekiel meant by that is they didn't beat him. What he couldn't admit out loud was his desire to see them again, however scary that notion was to him. Even if they were his parents, Ezekiel didn't know them, not really. He wanted to see him, but he was also scared of them. He looked at the phone, and the numbers written down.<br/><br/>“I'll call, but just to see if the numbers are right,” Ezekiel decided, smoothing hands hands down River's arms. “It'll be okay. We won't let anything happen. One thing at a time, and we'll decide.” Zeke took the phone shakily, dialing the first number listed. It rang only a few times before he was contemplating hanging up, but a pretty female voice answered the phone. Ezekiel went stiff, listening to her repeat herself, but true to his word, he didn't say anything at all. After a couple of seconds, he slammed the phone down, burying his face in River's neck.<br/><br/>“It's her,” he admitted, swarmed with emotions that he didn't quite know how to process. For now, he internalized them, though he felt like lashing out. Not at River, of course; he'd never hurt River.<br/><br/>When Watson returned, the two boys were stuffed into the same chair, and he was frowning. They clung to each other like frightened children, but he'd known that Ezekiel had called his mother, if only to not say anything at all. She called back, though it hadn't been delivered to his direct extension, but merely the police station main line since that was what showed on her caller ID. She was a mother worried for the son she had now, not the one she had learned to accept was dead. Watson's heart was breaking for her, especially on seeing the way the two boys behaved together. They needed a mother. It was his obligation to his own children that made him say anything at all to her. She broke down on the phone, unable to process all that he was saying.<br/><br/><i>Ma'am, we found your son. He's alive. Ezekiel Benett is alive.</i><br/><br/>Watson sat down at his desk, unsure of how much he should allow himself to get involved. He almost called River's mother, but decided slower increments would be the way to go with this. He had no idea what might happen if the two were torn apart so soon, and not everyone might understand that. He wouldn't even blame the mothers, who most certainly only wanted their boys back.<br/><br/>“I called your mother back, Ezekiel. She's on her way,” he informed, and the young man reacted as if he'd just been burned with scalding water. He jerked, panic clawing at him, then his expression turned furious.<br/><br/>“Why did you do that?” Ezekiel shouted. “I won't go with her! I will claw her eyes out, I promise you, before she takes me away.”<i>Away from River</i>. He let out a sound of anguish. “I didn't ask you to do that!”<br/><br/>“Ezekiel, please. I'll talk with her. Whatever you want me to tell her. Whatever your terms are. She misses you very much. She's your mother. She's going to want to help you. Explain to me how to explain to her how to help you,” Watson persisted, his words sympathetic. Ezekiel had completely broken down and was crying into River's partially unbuttoned shirt, clutching him like the only lifeline in the world he had left. Maybe that's how he saw it. Watson nodded.<br/><br/>“I'll talk to her. You two won't be separated. No one can make you, not even your mother. You don't have to go with her, if you don't want. Just at least let her see that you're alright. She's very upset. I will talk to her. I'll see that she understands,” Watson vowed, but Ezekiel was still skeptical. Still untrusting; still unwilling to talk with him.