Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
For Tigerlily888: Happy Birthday! Hopefully, this will actually work out the way I see it in my mind and you'll get a case fic for your present.
When she dreamed, it was dark. Always dark, too cool, and a little damp. She felt like she would never be warm again. She was hungry, too. Hungry, scared, cold, and lonely. She wondered how long she'd been there; she wondered how much longer she would be there. Would she be rescued? Would she die in the miserable darkness? How much longer until either happened?
Then she felt the hands skittering across her shoulders. Her heart picked up its rhythm. She tried to be still, to pretend she was asleep. The hands didn't want a passive victim. But the feel of them on her skin was too much and she jerked away. She ran in the dark, listening to the happy chuckle creeping out of the blackness. The hands were delighted – a fighter! Just what they loved most! She tripped and bumped into things in the dark, trying to get away. But she didn't know where to go, couldn't see anything. The hands were waiting for her; somewhere in all the darkness, they waited until she was just where they wanted her to be. If she changed direction, would she be running away from them or towards them?
Her breath began to puff as she panted, not only from the running, but also the fear and anxiety. They were like the hands, insidious evils that ate at your resolve until you dropped in a heap, unable to run or hide or defend yourself.
Another wicked chuckle had her changing course, veering to the left. A few steps more rapid steps and her shin collided sharply with something hard. She lost her balance, careened awkwardly as she fell, sliding across a bare floor. Before she could get up, before she could even think to get her legs under her, the hands were there. One set of skittering fingers wrapped itself in her long, dirty hair, pulling until she shrieked in pain and shock. Then a body, a man's body, settled on her back, pushing her face first into the ground. The other hand wrapped around her thin neck as his weight settled on her squirming body.
"Got you now," a voice whispered in the darkness. She tried to get away, to buck him off, anything, but she was too tired, too terrified. His weight crushed her as his hand moved from her hair to join its partner around her neck. They squeezed in unison.
She gasped against the pain, needing air, trying to claw at the hands stealing her life away. Light burst behind her lids, followed by empty black spots. She could feel her heart slow… beat… beat… beat… it slowed to a stop. She gasped reflexively once more.
"Mine forever," the voice whispered.
She jerked awake. Drenched in sweat, she gasped for breath, nearly hyperventilating. She nearly fainted before she remembered where she was. It took everything she could muster to regain control of her body, to push away the terror and remember how to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. In and out. In and out. The words echoed in her head for several painful minutes as she got herself under control. When she could breathe without gasping, she turned on her side and cried into the soft mattress, huddled under the downy duvet. She prayed to forget. Please, God, please, just let her forget.
