"Lucas," he heard a small, insistent voice call out, cutting through the darkness of his sleep. He opened his eyes, blinking heavily. He winced and grabbed his side when he tried to take a deep breath, a sharp, stabbing pain causing him to moan slightly.

As his head cleared and his eyes began to focus again, he saw Katya, awake and crouching by the bars. It had been she who had been calling his name. He sat up quickly, relieved to see her there. He immediately joined her though he was afraid of what he might see.

She reached out for him when she saw him sit up, and he had hold of her hand as soon as he was within reach. She looked as if she'd been in an accident. The blood from the numerous small cuts on her face mixed with the bruises that had formed there inspired a heavy feeling in his stomach. He hoped that, once cleaned up, it wouldn't look as bad. There were bruises on her wrists and ankles from the handcuffs they'd used to restrain her, caused by her struggling against them.

"Kat! Are you okay?"

She nodded. "A little sore, but okay."

"What happened?"

"What does it look like?"

"I swear, if we get out of here, I'm going to kill him," he whispered fiercely.

"Get in line."

"Did you tell them?"

"No."

He sighed. "They're going to keep doing this to you…"

"I'm not going to tell them Lucas."

He secretly admired her stubbornness. "I know."

The door to his room was unlocked and he instantly gripped both of her wrists. They could hit him again if they wanted, but he was not letting go of her this time. One of the larger men, one he didn't recognize, entered the room carrying a basin and a cloth. He set them down near Lucas and just looked at them both. Lucas could see in his face that he didn't agree with the way Katya was being treated but wasn't in a position to protest.

"I brought this for her. Clean her up," he said, leaving the room.

Lucas was instantly grateful for the small act of kindness. He released her wrists and went to pick up the basin. Bringing it back, he set it in front of her and dipped the cloth in. The water was even warm. He touched it to her face gently, not wanting to hurt her. She closed her eyes, but she winced when he passed over a cut.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's okay, not like you're doing it on purpose."

He smirked. He couldn't help it; he was impressed that she could have even a small trace of a sense of humor after all of this. It was as he had hoped. Once the blood had been cleaned off, it really wasn't as bad as it had seemed. The cuts were small and not deep, they wouldn't require any real medical attention. Her lip was split from the slap she'd received earlier, but again, it would heal on its own. The bruises were ugly, but that was about all. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's not too bad, nothing really major," he told her.

She smiled, but then furrowed her brow in concern. "And you? Are you okay?"

"My side hurts every time I breathe. I think that guy broke a rib…or maybe two…maybe more."

"Lucas, I'm really sorry…"

"For?"

"Getting you into this. I know I said it already but…"

"So stop saying it. It wasn't your fault, you didn't know this would happen."

"Any luck getting a signal?"

"No, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to get one," he replied, pulling the POC out of his pocket. He stood up and walked around the room with it, but no luck.

"Nothing…" she said.

He shook his head. "No, nothing."

She groaned in frustration. "We'll never get out of here if we can't get that to work!"

He sat down again. "I'll keep trying."

"I know you will."

"If we get out of here, how do you think this will change things?"

"How do you mean?"

"How is your life going to change, now that you know?"

She shrugged. "I really don't know. I'm the same person I always was, just with a more interesting family history. I want to be able to go back to the SeaQuest, I like it there, and I have friends there. Friends like you."

"I hope you can come back too. It wouldn't be the same with you gone."

"And if I don't? What then?"

"Do I have to think about that?"

"Yes, I want to know."

"I guess things would go on as they had before you came, but it would be different. I wouldn't be the only one who would be sad to see you go. The guys would miss you too. I wouldn't have anyone to talk to at night anymore."

"You'd have Sam, when she came back."

"Yeah, I know, that's not what I meant. The way I talk with you and the way I talk with Sam are two different things."

"You could always call me if you wanted to talk," she offered.

He gave her a serious look. "It wouldn't be the same, would it?"

"No. You're right, it wouldn't. But you haven't answered my question. What will you think?"

"I'd rather not answer that Kat. Answering means thinking about it, and as far as I'm concerned, you're coming back."

She looked down, noticing her dress. "Oh! Look at this! They ruined it!"

He raised an eyebrow. "We're sitting here under lock and key, we've both been beaten up, we don't know if we're getting out of here, and you're mad that your dress is ruined?"

She laughed softly. "No, just trying to change the subject."

He grinned. "I see. Hey, I wonder if Ben has figured out that you gave him the wrong lottery numbers yet?"

She giggled. "I forgot about that!"

"He's going to be mad."

"He'll get over it."

"I wonder if they're looking for us."

"I'm sure they are."

"It's where to look that would be the problem. They have no clue where to start."

"Lucas…"

"What?" he asked, looking up to see her staring over his shoulder.

"It's…" she said, pointing.

He turned to look and what he saw almost made him cry with happiness. It was Ellie.

"Hi Lucas. Sorry I'm late, but I think I can help you with your problem…"