Wow the reviews were really nice! Thanks a bunch guys, here's another one!
Kate POV
I felt something hard nudging my body, the pressure slowly building. I tried to turn away from whatever it was, but my body didn't seem to want to respond.
Slowly, painfully, I became aware of the radiating pain and the soreness and dryness of my throat. My body felt battered and I felt like I had swallowed about twenty gallons of water in the past hour.
The "thing" that was nudging my body became more intense, now kicking and making me feel like I was being rolled over and over again down a hill.
I tried to find my voice and miraculously, I let out a soft moan and jerked my arms towards whatever it was that was kicking me, trying to shield my already battered body.
"Ah, you're awake."
That was his voice. I didn't know the man's name, I realized, just his voice and what he looked like. I tried to picture that aristocratic smile on his lips, the expensive suit and the Italian shoes, all tied together with dark, almost dead black eyes that seemed to suck you in like a worm hole.
I struggled to open my eyes but my body declined and kept them closed. I breathed in shallow gasps, the effort of raising my arms had seemed like too much already, but I struggled against it all and opened my eyes.
The room we had been held in blurred into view, the dull wooden walls, now sodden with . . . what?
"Did you enjoy the water works?" He asked, giving a soft chuckle of delight.
The water. Suddenly, it rushed back. The roaring waves pounding against my body, the sensation of my lungs being ripped out and my throat burning, it all came back, full force.
"G-Gibbs," I choked out, "W-where is G-Gibbs?"
I was now shivering from the cold, my body shaking from the shock as well; and yet I couldn't concentrate on the cold, my mind kept drifting to a certain man with electric blue eyes.
I opened my eyes again and came face to face with the same black Italian loafers that had been nudging me awake. I tilted my head upwards to face him and rolled onto my back, seeing his cruel face stretch into one of those cruel smiles made my stomach turn.
"Oh, you're agent? He's in the corner, we can wake him up later, if he's still alive. My men went a few rounds with him, I let them since he shot one twice," he bent down so that his face was now only inches from mine, "But you, I get to have you all to myself."
I felt rage suddenly pour into me, drowning out the pain and the aches. Suddenly, I felt like I had all the energy in the world and I hated the man in front of me with so much fury that it was almost inhumane.
I wanted to slug him. I wanted to shoot him. Hell, I wanted him dead at my feet. I curled my hand into a fist, and jerked my arm upwards, but suddenly, it stopped.
I looked at my arm to see that it was chained to the wall, I was only centimeters away from him and yet I still couldn't touch him.
I yelled in fury and tried to kick at him, but again, it only came up a few centimeters short. I couldn't touch him, but I was so close.
He burst into a full blown laughter, "How does it feel, knowing that I am so close and yet you still cannot even lay a hand on me?"
I wanted to scream, wanted it all to pour out, but refused to let him know how upset I was. I quickly composed my face, turning off all emotion and let my brain start thinking clearly.
This is what Gibbs taught you to do, always stay in control. He's a cocky little bastard, he's bound to have a flaw somehow. Make him break first, stay in control.
I could practically hear his voice in my ear, whispering those words of encouragement. I pictured his kind blue eyes staring into mine and suddenly, the anger evaporated as suddenly as it had come.
Make him break, I thought in my head, make him break.
"Well he got away once, he'll get away again," I told him bluntly, "After all, your security isn't all that great, what do you have, 5, 6, men?"
I gave a harsh laugh despite the scratchiness of my throat, "You think us trained federal agents can't get past you? I mean, just because you dress nice doesn't mean that you're all that smart, it just means you get dumb asses to do your dirty work. You're nothing without them, without them, you're just another guy looking to get money, a guy with his heads in the clouds."
I watched and calculated his moves in my head as I spoke and quickly saw the anger rising in his eyes, making his face flush a light pink. His eyes were now coals, and he was struggling to stay in control.
"I got you right where I want you, you can't just pick the locks when you can't even reach your other hand," he fought back, "I'm stronger then the both of you."
I laughed again, the sound making me wince internally, it sounded like sandpaper rubbing against a tree.
"Really, is that why you have a girl chained to the floor? Any half ass can take a girl that's chained to the floor, it doesn't take a guy with much strength to do it, especially when you just blasted her with 20 gallons of water. Face it, you didn't do any of this, you had help. And even if you hit me now, you'll never get the self-satisfaction that you're stronger than us."
Suddenly, the anger in his eyes now held insecurity. He opened his mouth and immediately closed it, suddenly unsure of what to say, his cocky smile now wiped clean.
"That's not true," he whispered, "That's not true!"
I glared at him, "We both know it's true. You want to be the boss, but you can't because you cant take the pressure, you're not strong enough. Hell, you have to chain people down to make them listen to you."
His eyes were now flaming and he looked like he was ready to punch me in the face. Just a little closer, I prayed, eyes the keys he had tucked in his back pocket. My hand itched to grab it so I could give him one in the face, but he wasn't there yet.
"You don't know me," he growled out, his face now red, "You don't know what I am capable of."
He leaned in closer, closing the distance, his face now just one millimeter away from mine. Slowly, I let my hand slide across the rough wood and towards his pocket, at the same time my eyes never left his.
"Yes I do, I deal with people like you every day and I put them behind bars every day. Hell, sometimes I even get to shoot the dumb ones, one's like you," my voice held no emotion, just a carefree smile graced my lips, hiding my turmoil and my nervousness perfectly.
My hand inched upwards and I was about to dive in and grab the keys when he abruptly jerked away from me. I let my hand fall to the ground again and let it rest parallel to my other hand before he noticed.
"You aren't worth my time," he growled out again and opened the door, letting the harsh sunlight stream in.
He left the door open and I heard him yelling in Arabic and strained my ears, trying to hear him, but couldn't even make out the faintest of words.
Suddenly, two men strode in, and in between them, they had a man that was dripping wet with multiple blood stains on his shirt and a black bag over his head.
They carelessly tossed him in a corner and put the handcuffs back on him, and left.
I looked at the man in the corner, and wanted to curl up and cry. I wanted to cry about all the pain, how it was just so unfair that we had to be in this situation, I wanted to cry for help, but it would never come.
"Gibbs?" I whispered his name hesitantly, hoping that he would answer me.
I tugged on the chains violently, trying to reach him, scratching my wrists raw. I didn't stop, just kept on tugging, hoping that the chains would somehow come loose.
"Gibbs! Wake up, please, don't do this to me, dammit wake up!" I yelled, my voice frantic as I tried to rip his bag away from his head and look at him.
"Please," I whispered, tears sliding down my already wet cheeks, "Please, Gibbs, wake up, for me. Please."
My wrists were beginning to hurt now, but I couldn't stop. I had to check to see if he was ok, I couldn't stop. His form was so still, his shirt, once white, was now dotted with thick blood patterns that made the shirt look like a child had finger painted on it.
His blood made me cringe with both fear for his life and anger towards the men who did this. When or if I see those two men again, I vowed to kill them.
"Gibbs, don't do this, please, Gibbs," I whispered, my voice sounding so much like a child's, "You can't die, not when we just realized what we feel for each other, you can't just leave me!"
But he still kept deathly still, so still, that I was willing to bet that he wasn't even breathing.
