A/N: This chapter is little darker than previous ones...
Thanks as always to Trina109 for beta-reading this for me :)
His captors, McGee slowly realised, had chosen their placement well. The way they'd chained him to the wall, the only way he could avoid seeing the screen was to hang his head.
He felt like he was going crazy.
For hours, he'd hung against the wall and watched as the hooded man tortured Abby, beating her repeatedly with what appeared to be a length of chain. He was exhausted and in considerable pain from his own injuries, but somehow he'd been unable to look away, fearing that if he did, something worse might be done to her. And so he watched, flinching with every blow as the woman he loved writhed in pain. When it stopped- it looked like Abby had passed out- he cried like a baby. Finally he fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.
... ...
The pain that had caused Abby to black out eventually pulled her back to consciousness. As she woke, she instinctively stretched, then stiffened. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire. She knew without being able to see that her back and sides were a mass of welts; it felt like her shirt was stuck to her skin. She twisted painfully, trying to suppress a groan. It was hard to tell because of the black shirt, but it looked like the material was stuck to her with her own blood. She shuddered. She'd always liked chains; she'd worn them frequently and they were one of her favourite accessories. Not anymore.
She looked up to the screen in the corner. Last night, when she could still think and focus, before the pain became too great, she'd caught sight of McGee on that screen. She hadn't recognised him at first. His face was bloody, bruised and swollen. But the eyes never changed. He had the most expressive eyes of any man she'd ever met; it was one of the things that attracted her, even when they first met and he was still a little pudgy. She'd been able to look straight into his eyes on the screen, and what she saw there hurt almost as badly as the chains. Suffering.
He'd obviously been badly beaten, but she could tell he was crying and she didn't think it was from the pain. Tim was a lot stronger than most people gave him credit for; she couldn't remember ever having seen him cry before, not even when Jim Nelson was killed, although she knew how upset he'd been. It puzzled her for a moment. What had affected McGee so badly? Then she put two and two together; if she could see him on the screen he must be able to see her. She winced again. It was bad enough for her to see her Timmy like this, but at least she hadn't had to watch them inflict the damage she could see. McGee obviously had. Though they weren't quite at that stage in their relationship, she was well aware that Tim loved her. She hated to think how this would affect him.
...
At some point during the night, he shifted his weight to one side and put pressure on his injured wrist. The pain jerked him awake. He was disoriented for a second, then the events of the previous day came rolling back. Waking up in the cell. The hooded man and his steel pipe. Abby, being beaten with chains... Abby. God, Abby.
He looked up at the screen, both relieved and worried to see her alone, eyes closed. Was she sleeping? On the small screen, it was impossible to tell if she was still breathing. He hoped to God she was sleeping, and not dead. He watched her for a long time, reassuring himself that she still lived. As he watched, he came to an inescapable conclusion. They'd been unable to break him by beating him... but beating Abby was different. His parents had raised him to be chivalrous, a gentleman, and being unable to protect her...
They hadn't been able to break him through beating, but having to watch as they beat Abby... if they came, he knew he'd sing like a bird, tell them anything they wanted to know- as long as they let her go.
But no one came.
