For a moment, when Elizabeth woke up, everything seemed ok. And then it all hit her; the acidic pain in her side, the ache in her head, the grinding discomfort in her shoulders from where her arms were pulled back and bound too tightly behind her, her hands tied tightly to her ankles, causing another dull ache in her hips. Panicking slightly, she gulped down several large breaths of air, coughing from the shooting pain in her ribs. She fought to calm her breathing, trying to figure out what had happened.

She'd gone straight to her room when Reddington had dropped her off late at the motel, in a bad mood after a long, trying day. She'd been irritated further by the extractor fan in her bathroom making an horrendous noise, but she hadn't wanted to get the super to come and fix it, so she hit it with the heel of her boot until it fell off the wall. It had left a drafty hole that made her shower less than pleasant, but she was beyond caring. After a quick, chilly shower, she had flung herself down on the bed and turned on the small television, planning on ordering takeout, but drowsiness caught up with her quickly and she had fallen asleep with some late night comedy show still blaring. She had patchy memories after that of fighting off a group of assailants, but they seemed more like fragments of a bad dream, distant and indistinct. She wondered if she'd been drugged.

Opening her eyes, Elizabeth tried to look around. She was lying on her side, her face pressed into a scratchy carpet that was stained an unpleasant red-brown colour. She couldn't move her head easily, but from what she could see it was obvious that she was being held in a shipping container, the tell-tale corrugation showing signs of rust.

A rustling noise behind her warned her that someone else was in there with her, but that was all the warning she had before they punched her hard in the side of her head and the darkness swallowed her once more.

xxxxx

There was light shining through Elizabeth's eyelids this time when she woke up. She felt warm and comfortable, most of her pain gone except for a dull ache in her ribs. She was lying in a bed now, the pillows soft against her cheek, in contrast with the rough carpet from the container. She moved to rub her face but found that her arms were restrained, so she slowly opened her eyes, blinking until the world came into focus.

The room was bright and clean, but Elizabeth could see the heavy-duty door and the small barred window. There was no doubt in her mind, this was a cell.

As she lay there, the door opened and a plump, blonde lady, wearing a pristine white suit and six inch heels, walked into the room. She picked up the clip board from the end of the bed and stood there silently reading for a few moments. Nodding, apparently satisfied, she set the board back down and walked up to the head of the bed, peering down at Elizabeth.

"Well, aren't you a cutie?" The woman's strong Texan drawl had a sweetness to is, and there was a kindness in her eyes too, but also something strict and hard. "I'm afraid we had to keep you in a coma for a few weeks to let you recover, but it looks like you're doing well now. What's your name sweetie?"

Elizabeth stayed silent, not wanting to give the woman who was keeping her captive the satisfaction.

"I said, what's your name?" Her face had hardened, but she still received no reply.

Stepping up to a panel on the wall by the bed, she pushed something and Elizabeth's body was suddenly racked with burning agony. When it stopped the woman made her way back down the bed and perched on the edge, looking back up.

"That's what happens any time you lie to me or refuse to answer a question. It's a short-lived toxin that the body does not build a resistance to. You won't get used to the feeling dear, so don't even try and tough it out. So, I'll ask again, what's you're name."

"Elizabeth Scott Keen" her voice was hoarse but steady.

"See, that's not so hard, is it? Only, I think you may be mistaken. Your name isn't Elizabeth anything, is it dear? I think you'll find that your name is Nothing."

"No, it's Elizabeth" her body was filled with agony once more.

The lady kept asking Elizabeth her name, and every time she answered with anything other than "Nothing", the lady pushed the button and her world dissolved into white heat. Eventually, she couldn't stand it any longer. A part of her was ashamed at how easily she gave in, but the pain caused by the toxin was too much to bear.

"What's your name darlin'?" The woman's voice was as sweet now as when they had started, although lower and filled with victory.

"Nothing" Liz's voice on the other hand was rough and weak from screaming and resignation.

"See, doesn't that feel better? And you may call me Miss."

Not long after, Miss came with two burly men and took Liz from the bed, dragging her to a small, windowless cell. She was too weak to stand, so she slumped to her knees as soon as they let her go. There wasn't a bed in this room, only a thin mattress and a bucket in the corner. Liz didn't need to be told what that was for.

The men shoved a needle back into her arm and covered it with a metal cuff that was padlocked into place. She had no way of removing the line that would feed the poison into her body, she was stuck,

"Now, sweetie, let's set a few ground rules, just so we all know where we stand?" Miss was leaning against the doorframe now, her two goons behind her. "If you behave yourself then you'll be given a bed again. You'll get to have a nice, comfy room, and we might even trust you not to need the line. If you don't behave yourself, however, then we can make you so much less comfortable, your life could be very unpleasant. It's entirely up to you dear, you'll only ever be punished if you choose not to behave."

With that, Miss left the room and closed the door, plunging Liz into complete darkness.