Author's Note: Alright, I know. I promised I would have all my other stories finished before I started posting some of these new ones. But, I liked this story far too much to let it sit on my laptop any longer. Though I am a little stuck with my current stories, my beta and good friend laughed at my feeble attempt to end them (which really, you guys should all thank her for). So, I'll finish Powerless and This is the Place when I have inspiration, The Fight will likely continue to have sporadic updates.
Warnings: Uh, this is going to get kind of intense, but if you've read my stories before, it will probably be tamer than other stuff I've written. There will be mentions of drug use, drug abuse, etc. Abuse, violence, and possible vague hintings at a little more. But if I told you everything there wouldn't be a reason for you to read it.
The throbbing dull ache in her arms brought her back to semi-consciousness before anything else. She shifted against the cool concrete, surprised to feel her hands cuffed to a pole above her head. Her eyes snapped open and immediately closed as her head ignited with pain. Blinking slowly, she finally managed to quell the spinning room and glance around at her surroundings.
Her stomach churned as she forced away the absolute panic that welled within her.
It didn't matter how she got here—though it killed her that she had absolutely no idea. It didn't matter what she remembered last—falling asleep in Will's arms with Henry asleep in the next room. It didn't matter how completely terrified she was.
What mattered was getting the hell out of here.
Wherever 'here' was.
She pulled forcefully at her arms, cringing as the sudden movement made her head spin. After yanking with all her might only to have the pipe refuse to budge, she gave up reluctantly.
It didn't make any sense to waste her efforts.
She jumped as a thick metal door slid open slowly. Steeling herself, she tried to force any hint of fear from her face, determined not to give her captor any satisfaction.
She was certain, however, that not even her best press-face could keep the shock (and the fear that accompanied it) from her eyes at the cold hard face of Ian Doyle.
"I should have known better." Doyle drawled, his Irish accent striking a chill against her soul. "Lauren is just the bitch that won't die, isn't she?"
JJ gulped, unwilling to respond.
He chuckled. "You surprised me." He admitted. "I thought you'd already be screaming for someone to help you." He grinned maniacally. "Just so you are aware, no one will be able to hear you."
"Figures." JJ murmured, rolling her eyes.
"I'm going to make this easy for you." The man pulled up a chair that had been in the corner and sat down near her. "I know Lauren isn't dead. I know you know where she is. Tell me, and I'll let you go." He fingered a lock of her long blonde hair and she jerked her head away quickly. He was too close for her to kick him and her arms were currently immobilized.
"Go to hell." She spat, pleased to see her saliva make contact with his cheek and get caught in the scruff of his facial hair.
"Gladly." He grinned more amused than angered by her defiance, wiping off her spit with the back of his hand. "But not until I'm sure that Lauren—Emily Prentiss—is right there beside me." He grabbed her neck forcefully, squeezing tightly as he clamped off her airway.
JJ jerked frantically, desperately trying to free herself as she felt herself suffocate.
"Now where is she?" Doyle asked, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion at all as he let go of her throat.
She coughed, sputtering for air as she pulled against the cuffs restraining her wrists.
He paused, allowing her to recover slightly before asking again, "Where is she?"
"Lauren's dead, you bastard." She croaked, steeling herself enough to glare at him with a practiced coldness as she somehow managed to keep every hint of fear at bay. "But I'll die before I tell you where Emily is."
He smiled, not at all surprised by the woman's dedication. "It'd be a shame to leave that little boy without a mother. Henry?" He prodded. "He's almost three now. Right?"
"Stay away from him." JJ thrashed, somehow managing to kick her weight toward his chair, though she failed miserably at any attempt of injuring him or freeing herself.
Doyle sighed. "I guess we're going to have to do this the hard way." He smiled, pulling out a large syringe with a semi-transparent green liquid.
Her mouth grew dry as she realized his intentions, and despite having her arms almost completely immobilized, she tried to push him off as he easily tied off her left arm with a thin cord.
"I still have all the right connections to get the newest drugs on the market." He smirked, watching as the blue veins in her arm began to bulge slightly. "This particular one has an astronomically high rate of dependency." He tested the syringe. "But you can avoid this if you tell me where she is."
"I won't tell you." She gulped, the bravery of her words undercut by the waver of her voice.
He grabbed her arm forcefully and plunged the contents of the syringe into her vein despite her struggling.
She gasped as the ice cold liquid crawled up her arm, her eyes already starting to blur as she felt her heart speed up slightly.
He smiled, standing to leave. "And Jennifer," He paused, grinning as he saw the government official gasping as the cold liquid coursed through her system. "I didn't want to kill your family, but Lauren left me no choice." He lied shutting the door behind him and allowing the woman to suffer for a while.
He would be back.