The frail figure sunk low into the mattress, heavy white sheets covering her discreetly. The nurses had covered her, leaving exposed her creamy white shoulders. She lay peacefully induced by some artificial medication that kept her still as her body recovered from the surgery, but there was something paradoxical in how serene her body and face looked when the Detectives knew the trauma she had survived.

Detective Sergeant James Hathaway watched her from the nurse's station in the outside corridor, the large window affording the staff full observation. He stood tall and lean, his hands driven into the pockets of his slim-cut pinstripe suit and his blonde hair cropped close to his scalp. His partner, Senior Inspector Lewis stood next to him, his opposite in every way physically but his match in brains and policing skills. Lewis stood slumped against the nurse's desk, at least a foot shorter than Hathaway, with a thicker build, heavy brown hair flecked with grey and a more casual demeanor.

'Well sir, I'm afraid I can't discuss the case with you until the doctors signed off on it,' the brunette nurse was explaining. Lewis answered something to her, of which James didn't hear. He was distracted, and had been so ever since he had first glimpsed their newest victim of crime lying in the bed of the Oxford Shire Emergency Ward. He found himself mesmerized by her, studying the shuddering rise and fall of her chest as her body clearly fought some inner injury, the small part of her pale lips as she breathed deeply comforted by the constant drip of the intravenous painkiller than drew in through the port in her hand. Just as he woke himself up from the daze, Lewis was impatiently explaining once again that it was illegal to withhold evidence, medical or otherwise, from the police during an investigation. James nodded to pretend he was part of the conversation, but he had clearly joined the wrong end as the nurse walked off with the promise of returning with someone more senior than her.

'Hmph, well that took longer than it should have,' Lewis complained, straightening himself after his win.

'Yes, would of thought they'd all recognize you around here by now,' Hathaway struck back, their easy banter being the familiar reminder that this was just another case.

'Look, I'm not about to hang around for some old doctor to arrive, I'm going to go and speak with the boys that found her again… you stay here and wait for the doc? Oh, and keep an eye on our victim; case she wakes up.'

'Yes sir,' Hathaway answered as he watched his boss turn and walk away. He strolled over to the door and peered in the room again. The room was all but dark, lit only by the lights in the corridor that shone through the glass walls of the fish bowl they reserved for patients that needed to be carefully monitored. The machine that stood next to the bed that fed the medications into her flashed periodically with an orange light, measurements and dosages. Antibiotics to ward off infection, dopamine's to numb the pain, sedatives to keep her mind in blissful state of oblivion.

He noticed her shift ever so slightly under the covers and without any hesitation found himself opening the door and entering quietly.

He edged closer to the bed, unsure of why he'd entered but never being one to overthink his actions. He bemused himself by rehearsing what he would say if someone were to question his presence there, all the while studying her small frame rounded by the fall of the crisp sheets and the loose curls that had been scooped up into a high ponytail by a nurse. The horrid discoloration of her face, the swelling of her cheek and the sadistic pattern of injuries which trailed along her neck and undoubtedly further where she had been covered. But as his eyes traced the contours of her body, he became aware of something and his eyes flicked up to hers and found them open – brilliantly blue and terrified. Unintentionally, he moved forward so that he may speak quietly to her and explain his presence – but she startled, wary of his proximity. Her eyes rolled dozily as she fought to keep them open, her breathing had become ragged and he saw that she was struggling to speak.

Finally, some words escaped her lips croaky and weak. 'Please, she whispered, almost inaudibly. 'Please don't…. don't hurt me again.' Hathaway frowned as he watched her fighting to maintain consciousness so that she could speak. 'Please… no more.'

He hesitated before answering, and then chose his tone very carefully. 'Miss Imbry, I'm a police officer. I promise you, you are very safe. No more harm will come to you, just rest.' His manner must have convinced her for she mouthed her thanks for him insuring her safety and lapsed into uncontrollable sleep once more.

Perhaps it had been an hour, although James suspected it had been shorter than that when an older stern man swept into the room loudly and checked at Hathaway's presence.

'You still here?' he spat out, moving to check the chart at the end of Elizabeth's bed.

'I assume you're the doctor that's been assigned to the case? I'm Detective Sergeant Hathaway, with the Oxford Police. I have a few questions regarding your treatment of…'

'Yes, yes, I know who you are!' the doctor interrupted rudely. 'You lot come round here after all the blood and gore's been mopped up and expect the world. And before you continue with the formalities, yes I'm the doctor who had been assigned to fix this mess,' he gestured to Elizabeth on the bed.

'Well, I'm sure she's sorry to have inconvenienced you,' James replied sarcastically, but it seemed to be lost on the doctor who was angrily scribbling notes on her file.

'Don't know why I'm always given the little ladies to sew up; must think I'm some sort of deviant or to the like.'

'What do you mean by that?' Hathaway had to ask.

'Well, you've read the reports by now man. I think we can both assume I'm the last man that's going to be fiddling around down there after this sort of thing's been done to the woman?'

Hathaway bristled. 'May I suggest – sir! – that you exercise a little more sensitivity when dealing with cases like this one in future?'

The doctor scoffed. 'You can suggest it, but there's no use us blokes denying we'd have done right more to her if we'd had the chance.' Hathaway hesitated, simply because he need to leave enough time to pass so he might register the full extent of what the doctor had just implied. 'I mean, come on – with looks like that… she was practically begging for it.'

By the time the doctor had reneged on his previous comments, Hathaway was already clutching him by the collar, pressing him against the wall. The doctor surrendered his hands pitifully and begged for the copper to put him down, it had been a long day after all. Hathaway weakened, although everything in him wanted to rip the man's throat out and he lowered him to the ground.

'Get out,' he ordered. 'You come near this patient again and you will not be so lucky.'

'Sorry to be gone so long,' Lewis called, pushing a tall plastic coffee in front of Hathaway. 'There were four of them.' He glanced once through the window at Elizabeth and sat next to his partner, dredging the remainder of his coffee before continuing. 'How is she?'

'Four of whom sir?' Hathaway asked.

'The boys who found her,' Lewis answered. 'Must of given her the shock of her life to see the four of them looming over the top of her.' Hathaway nodded, bringing the large cup to his mouth and sipping slowly.

'Heard you had a productive interview with the doctor on the case?' Lewis mentioned, a tone threaded through his query.

'Yes sir, didn't really tell us anything of substance,' Hathaway replied mundanely.

'Really… well he relayed a slightly different rendition which involved a complaint of you pushing him against the wall and threatening him?' Hathaway took another glug of the strong coffee. 'Sound familiar?'

'Vaguely sir,' he answered. 'All bit of a blur really… except the part where he acted like a misogynistic arse and spoke about her like she was a piece of meat. Might of gotten a little threatening around then I guess.' Lewis smirked, their easy sarcasm passing an understanding between them.

'Yes, that's what I thought; completely unfounded. How is she?'

Hathaway hesitated, looking through the glass at the girl sleeping peacefully; the same sight that he'd been staring at for the last few hours.

'Unchanged, sir.'