Lost Sons

by Kat4EverFree

Summary:

In which Thea and Roy had twin sons: Samuel and James. These two boys were kidnapped not long after they had both turned 5 years old.
Eleven years later, as the Queen-Harper family is giving up hope and their search is coming to a halt, a lead in the case arises in the unlikely, small town of beacon hills.
***
16 years old Jackson didn't understand why his adoptive parents were so upset about his appearance on the news - if you could call their reaction upset, damn right furious seemed a more fitting description.
However, he can soon grasp their reasons for secrecy when it comes to light that he wasn't adopted by strictly legal means- if kidnapping your "son" was considered not strictly legal.
So, when the Harper-Queen crew pull up in town wishing to confirm his place as their missing son - and it is confirmed that he is just that- it raises the very serious question of
where Is his brother?

Notes:

• Inspired by Reunion by RivanWarrioress

Chapter 1: Prologue: The Queen-Harper Case

Incident:
Abduction/Kidnapping

Victim(s):
Samuel Queen-Harper (five years)
James Queen-Harper (five years)

Persons of Interest/Arrests Made:
N/A

Report:
At precisely 07:16am on the morning of Tuesday the 10th of May 2022 a call was made to Star City Police Department from one Thea Queen-Harper. She informed SCPD that her sons, Samuel and James Queen-Harper (both five years of age) were missing.
When officers arrived at approx. 07:30am to investigate they found evidence of a break in and it was deemed that their disappearance was in fact an abduction (no ransom had been made, so it was being treated as such). Other than the broken lock on the window, nothing in the room had been disturbed proving that both boys had either quickly been subdued or that they had known their captor. No finger prints or DNA evidence was recovered from the crime scene.
An amber alert was issued, but no results came from this.
Family members of the boys and close family contacts were questioned concerning their whereabouts at the time of the abduction. The boys’ uncle, Oliver Queen, was the only person of interest at the time of the investigation due to his inability to provide an alibi. However, he was dismissed when Deputy Mayor Quentin Lance informed SCPD that they had been discussing business during the night of question.
After many hours of SCPD’s time and much of its workforce’s power the case remains unsolved and on-going.

Chapter 2: Chapter One: Moving On

It had been eleven years since Thea and Roy’s beautiful baby boys had been taken. Eleven painful and heart-breaking years of ‘what if’s and ‘if they were still here’s.
Over the last few years it had become increasingly difficult to keep hope of the boys’ return because they all knew the statistics, and the likelihood of the boys still being alive were slim to none. Even if there was a recoverable body it would have been discovered already. Their whereabouts was beyond them. Even after all this time, team arrow could find nothing. No intel and no paper trail, it was like the boys were written out of existence.
It was because of all their efforts and searching that they never expected that the answers would come to them, but that’s what happened at 7:16am on Saturday the 26th November 2033- eleven years, 6 months and 16 days after Thea Queen-Harper made that dreadful call- during breakfast, on their television.
Roy and Oliver were arguing with Diggle, a common occurrence since the boys’ disappearance – Diggle, although still deeply upset by the occurrence, had the most clarity out of all of team arrow (likely due to his ability to part-mentalise) and knew that their searching was in vain. Diggle was attempting to get the two men to see light and focus fully on their duties as protectors over Star City, it was a fruitless task. Thea, on the other hand sat almost catatonic on the settee staring blankly at the news channel before her reporting a murder of a high schooler in Beacon Hills, California. Cases like this always set her in a trance, thinking about how possible it was to believe it could be one of her sons- they’d been sixteen now, the same age as the victim- except for one hitch, the victim here was a girl. Every time it would be the same thing, hope of answers, dread that they would be devastating, joy that it wasn’t her son and then the crushing guilt of feeling that joy about a dead child with the extra kick of the not knowing once more.
This time was different.
The news anchor reporting the tragedy announced that a witness was willing to discuss the events, the camera panned round to the witness, Jackson Whittemore, a classmate of the victim. It was not the topic that shocked Thea but the boy. The boy who bore a striking resemblance to her husband. Thea grabbed the remote and paused the footage, interrupting her quarrelling company as she did so.
‘ROY! OLLIE!’ she cried over-whelmed with the prospect.
‘Thea, what is it! Thea!’ Roy was beside her in a flash, Oliver behind him. Concern was clear in their faces, worried about what had the usually cool – if slightly hot headed- woman so flustered. Thea was for once left speechless, her only response her shaking hand as she pointed towards the yet unnoticed screen.
Both men, and Diggle (who had now joined the trio), followed her directions and stopped.
When your child goes missing you always picture the worst scenarios. The horrible and often deadly outcomes. You don’t expect that your child has been living a different life in a different town. You don’t expect them to be healthy and free. But that’s what this sure as hell looked like.
To say that Samuel, the elder twin, had looked like his father would be a drastic understatement- a near clone would be more appropriate, right down to the smug grin he wore on his young face. There was no doubt in their minds that the Sixteen-year-old before them was Samuel, the only question now was -how do we get the proof?

-ARROW-TEENWOLF-ARROW-TEENWOLF-ARROW-TEENWOLF-ARROW-TEENWOLF-ARROW-TEENWOLF-

Felicity’s mind was reeling as she hacked into Jackson Whittemore’s social media accounts, Beacon Hills High School’s digital records and the Hospital’s systems, simultaneously. It had not been twenty minutes since the news of a lead arose and yet here she was finding out all the evidence she could to give enough information to account for a DNA Test.
After a good ten minutes of searching, she had gathered her trail and was ready to report her findings to the pacing and clearly anxious group.
‘It’s him.’ She begins, pausing to allow this information to fall into her own mind as well as her eager listener’s; saying it out-loud made the whole thing so much more real, so much more life altering somehow. A relieved sob came from Thea, half of the mystery now being solved. The three men however needed more before they let their guards down.
‘How can you be sure, Felicity?’ Oliver questioned.
‘It might have something to do with the very clearly faked adoption certificate, or that the dates fit perfectly with the disappearance. The fact that not only is he a dead ringer for Samuel, but has the same blood type. It must be him!’ Felicity stressed.
Now Oliver let down his guard.
‘Can you send that anonymously to both SCPD and Beacon Hills authorities?’ Roy asked, a slight break in his voice.
‘Already done.’ Felicity told him ‘It’s now a matter of waiting.’
And wait they did.
At 16:15pm, seven hours after the information was discovered and sent, did a knock land on the Queen’s door. Enough time for SCPD to clarify the information and confer with Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department. The team was informed that ‘Jackson’ had been placed into protective custody while his ‘parents’ were still being tracked down so they could swiftly be arrested on charges of abduction and questioned for information concerning the event and the issue of locating James.
Feigning shock at the ‘news’ came surprisingly easily, for it was only now that it felt like their boys were coming home- well one of the boys. Any information on James was yet to be discovered, their elation was short lived. They had learnt the location of one son only to have their hope for the other lessen some more.
The police came and left and it was not too long until the team was alone.
‘So, when are we leaving?’ Roy rushed.
‘Leaving? Where too?’ Felicity asked, slow on the uptake
‘To get Samuel. To find my other son!’ Roy stressed.
‘Roy, you need to calm down’ Oliver sighed, as much as he agreed with Roy’s urgency he knew how difficult it would be to justify the sudden change in the Arrows location, that just so happened to coincide with the recovery of one of the Queen-Harper boys.
‘Clam down! You can’t honestly suggest we do nothing...’
‘That’s not what I’m saying. We just need to be careful with this.’
And with that the Team were on their way.

Chapter 3: Chapter Two: Jackson

Summary:

Jackson's point of view, still unaware of his true heritage.

Notes:

Hi Everyone!
I'm really sorry for dropping off the map so long! I started uni and life got out of hand. I promise you all it is my intention to post all of this story, but having read what I wrote it's in need of some major touch-ups to get it up to a standard I am happy with. Alas, here is another two chapters to keep you going!

Enjoy :)

To say that Jackson’s day had been bad would be an understatement. It had been an unthinkable, awful and to be fully honest, shitty kind of day.
In the early hours of the morning he had received a call from Derek telling him to go to the school and help with their latest… situation. In the process of defeating ‘the beast,’ as they had taken to calling it, a girl from his class had died- they decided that she had been spying on them for weeks trying to unravel the mystery that happened to be the Hale-McCall Pack and in the chaos of that morning had unfortunately been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He had then been elected the spokesman for that night’s events (or at least the version of events that they wanted to be reported) when the sea of journalist swarmed into town. That, in Jackson’s opinion, had been an utter waste of time- the reporters were heartless and only cared about the details of the event, the more gruesome the details the better.
It was 10:00am by the time he got home, his unwavering aim being to take a shower. He had said good morning to his parents as they ignored him, too enthralled in today’s argument- something about the news- and made his way upstairs. He, looking back, remembers thinking that at least his day couldn’t get worse, oh how wrong he’d been.
He continued his day like any other, going to Derek’s loft where the pack was celebrating their win- that was something he would never understand. A girl had died and they had killed another living being (an evil and murderous one, but a living being nonetheless), Jackson did not count that as a win. The pack always assumed him to be the cruel and unfeeling one, it came with his bad-boy persona, but Jackson believed himself to be the most human member out the pack when it came to feeling.

So, after an hour or so at Derek’s reminding him of his failures, he knew that something else was destined to go wrong. He braced himself.
When he had imagined the outcomes of that day he was expecting a new supernatural trauma. He was not expecting to arrive home to an army of police officers raiding his house.
Jackson caught a passing officer’s attention.
‘Err... excuse me? What’s going on?’ he inquired. The officer’s eyes widened before he called over his shoulder
‘Guys! He’s over here’ quickly turning back to Jackson ‘Where have you been? We’ve been looking all over! Everyone was assuming the worst!’
‘What do you mean? I was at a friend’s! What the hell are you doing to my house?’
‘Jeez…’ The officer looked lost. ‘Maybe it’s best I take you to the station? Yeah? Yeah.’
That’s how he found himself sat impatiently outside the Sheriff’s office, ready to be called in and told about what was happening. God, it better be good...

-TEENWOLF-ARROW-TEENWOLF-ARROW-TEENWOLF-ARROW-TEENWOLF-ARROW-TEENWOLF-ARROW-

Ok, Jackson really needed to stop jinxing himself.
He was sat in the Sheriff’s office, his head a clouded mess as he tried to process what he was being told. He knew his parents were not his by blood, what he didn’t know was that their process of ‘adopting’ him involved abducting him from the family that loved him.
That family being the very rich, very influential, Queens.
A nurse had been and gone taking swabs of his DNA from the inside of his mouth to confirm that he was Samuel as they expected him to be, although at the time he had not known what they had been for, going on the assumption that it was regarding the previous night’s escapades. However, now the results had come back (the high-profile nature of events meaning the test had been bumped up to the head of the queue) and he was unable to comprehend the facts.
‘Jackson? Jackson? Are you alright son? You zoned out on me there.’ Came the careful and genuine voice of Sheriff Stilinski breaking him out of his trance.
‘Y-yeah’ he just about breathed, the enormity of the situation putting him in a panic.
‘Ok, well, I know this is pretty fast and you’ve barely processed the whole situation, but, your parents, by that I mean your birth parents, will be here in any time now. Word is they jumped into their private jet as soon as they heard that we’d found you.’ The Sheriff rambled obviously not having processed the fiasco himself.
‘Right.’ How was he supposed to respond to that? The only other option he could think of was an entire break down. The Sheriff was apparently also drawing a blank as to how to talk to him as they resolved to sitting in apprehension.

Until they weren’t.

The Queen-Harpers arrived in a flurry of demands to see their son and exclamations that they had waited eleven years and would not stand to wait one second longer. Jackson stood quickly and turned in the direction of the commotion, instincts telling him to be on guard and ready. His heart hammered in his chest and he felt light on his feet, fight or flight responses ready for action.
The door opened with a speed that rivalled the flash as Thea Queen-Harper removed the only obstacle between her and her son, and then she stopped dead in her tracks. She hadn’t thought through what she’d do once she had her boys, her only focus being finding them in the first place, she didn’t know what to say, how to act. She was a stranger to him. Thankfully Roy took the first step at breaking the ice.
‘Hello.’ Is all he said but just like that a flood-gate opened.
Jackson’s mind released memories he’d long forgotten. Almost as if there had been a dam and that simple word had broken through. He remembered playing in the gardens behind the house with Uncle Ollie, his Mum, Dad and… James.
‘Mom?’ he croaked, not trusting himself with multiple syllables, ‘Dad?’ He looked around the hopeful cluster before him… ‘you look older.’ He didn’t know what made him say it. It made perfect sense they’d be older and it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen them in that time, they were always plastered on the news. It just felt, right.
‘So do you.’ Came his mother’s wise reply. And just like that he was practically throwing himself at her, as if he was still that little boy and no time had passed at all. She gladly accepted his familiarity, surprised at how well he appeared to be adapting, and how much he seemed to remember. From his mother, he moved onto his father and then from him it was Oliver. They were all becoming increasingly confident that Samuel knew who all of them were, although that wasn’t truly confirmed until his joyful ‘Diggle!’
Jackson smiled fondly remembering the older man teaching him some ‘martial arts’, which, in reality, were just television inspired moves. Embracing the man with a pat on the back from both parties he felt himself slipping back into the past with ease. Maybe the answer to all ills was love.
As Samuel continued to re-acquaintance himself, Thea could only hope things would be as simple with James.

Chapter 4: Chapter Three: Stiles

Summary:

James, who now likes to go by Stiles contemplates his life up until this point.

James, who now liked to go by Stiles, hadn't had quite as much luck as Jackson. The Whittemore family had only wanted one son the second child had merely been a bonus - one they could profit from- so they let their acquaintance keep this second child, in place of a payment, for whatever he wished.

James had spent as long he could remember in the basement, the only light he got being that from the small light bulb hanging from the ceiling, the only company being "Sir" and the men he'd sometimes bring.

Don't get him wrong, he is very grateful to "Sir". It is "Sir" that feeds him, "Sir" that clothes him and "Sir" who teaches him how to read and do maths and science and anything Stiles wants to learn! Although, this is because "Sir" claims the "customers" preferred an intelligent-

No! It is James that must deal with them not Stiles! Stiles doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to! Stiles is strong! Stiles doesn't rely on anyone... But he knew that wasn't true. He has no freedom, only knowing the basement as his home. He has vague memories of a large house, with huge gardens and a family who loved him. But each day he becomes more and more convinced he had made it up, just like he made up Stiles. It doesn’t matter anyways, it is tainted now with the images of that night when he’d been taken.

He had woken to the sound of shuffling beside him, usually he’d ignore it assuming it was Samuel but this night it felt off. He’d turned to see a shadowy figure, face obscured by a mask, standing over his brother a strange mist being emitted from a bottle in his hands, he now knew this man to be “Sir” although at the time he believed him to be a monster- on reflection he may have been right after all. He remembers scrambling back trying to cry out for help, yet being unable to,

the gas now in his throat,

his lungs,

preventing him from catching his breath.

Burning.

Darkness.

The next thing he knows is the basement, the men, and “Sir”.

When trying to remember his childhood (that’s what he had grown accustomed to calling it for he had not been a child for many years now) he always found it fascinating how he could remember that night as if was yesterday, but could not paint a clear picture of his own mother’s face. Books he had read claimed that a traumatic event could cause memory loss, however this seemed to be surrounding the event, so he began to theorise that his past had been worse somehow and “Sir” had saved him- if that was the case he never wanted to go back. This was his life.

James curled himself into a ball and began to rock, being sure not to cry for that only served to make “Sir” angry. All the books he read painted a far different image to the one he was living, one of love and courage and hope, he had none of these things. If he had to describe his life he’d use one word.

Lonely.

“Sir” had informed him many times that this was normal, and Stiles felt he must believe him, despite him being sceptical, because why would he lie?

So now he resigns himself to the rest of his life in his small cell (no larger than 8 foot square).

It wasn’t like anybody was coming for him, right?

Notes:

So there we have it for now!
What do you guys think of James fate?
Please tell me your theories of who the infamous 'Sir' will be!!