She really hadn't known it could be worse, didn't think it could be worse than it already had.

It's been three weeks since he took her up to the world above. Three weeks since she learnt of their location. Three weeks since things had changed so dramatically, since he'd changed. And all because she'd lost herself for a moment. She'd waited so long for him to trust her and she'd thrown it all away. She sees that now. And she wants to go back to that time before because in comparison with this? It was bliss.

And she's not sure if the change in him is completely her own doing. She thinks maybe her behaviour was just another factor in the changing current of the ongoing investigation into her disappearance; the ultimate reasoning behind his sudden change in demeanour.

'Can I go upstairs today?' It's the question she can't help but ask, not now that she knows what awaits above them.

He doesn't answer. He's stopped bothering to answer her frequent plea. And everything about how he's been with her has her nervous because her days had become predictable, he'd become predictable but the person she was now fronted with was anything but.

'Can I help make dinner then?'

'No'

'Why? What harm is that going to do?' She blurts. 'Are you trying to kill me now?' She wonders. 'I'm hungry, I need to eat something substantial. You can't keep me in here forever'

She's been confined to the bedroom since that fateful day. Trips to the bathroom were chaperoned and she'd lost all privileges. Everyday tasks that she'd once been granted were suddenly off the agenda and food was somewhat scarce.

'I've been good. I'll be good. I just want to leave this room. I've been staring at the same four walls for days'

'And yet you still don't seem to understand who is in charge here' He smiles sadly.

'I do. You are. You own me. I'm yours. I get it. I get it completely'

'When you stop asking for things and accept that I know what's best for you, maybe I'll consider letting you have a little freedom. Instead of wanting constantly, maybe you should work on being grateful for what you do have, maybe you should consider trying your hardest to please me and be obedient'

'Do you want me to call you master?' She quips with an insincere smile.

'And that, sweetheart is why you can kiss goodbye to coming out of this room anytime soon or having any dinner' He shrugs and then he's exiting and she doesn't bother to try and escape because her last two ridiculous attempts have resulted in a belt beating down on her back and she doesn't think her aching body can handle anymore. She's been waiting for him to let up, for this reign of severe subordination to ease but she's worried he's only becoming harsher and it has her stomach in constant knots.

She kicks the wall in frustration before wearily collapsing onto the bed, her harsh movement draining her of all energy and she knows all too well that this is what he wants; her weak and feeble, drained of all fight, quite literally.

She wonders how long she can really survive on the morsels of food she's been drip fed over the last few weeks. There had been a time when he'd been practically spoon feeding her because she was refusing all meals but not now. Definitely not now that she'd been reminded there was a world out there. A world she wanted to so desperately see again.

She pulls her aching body up with a hiss and drags herself over to the dressing table with a sigh.

She's not sure when the last time she changed was. Nor when she last ran a brush through her knotty locks. It's all been part of her refusal to conform to his new fierce obedience training. But she can't carry on like this. If conforming means food, so be it.

She doesn't know if it's the lack of nourishing food or just it's longer length but her hair has become straighter. It's just another factor that emphasises to her that she's no longer the same person she once was. But she's not giving up. Her stubborn refusal is getting her no where and she's done waiting for change. She's impatient. She needs to get back upstairs. She has to. She picks up a brush that sits on the table and begins the laborious task of untangling her knotted hair, her mother's voice sounding in her head from a world long ago, if at first you don't succeed, try and try again.

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The charred ground mars the otherwise perfect scenery. The sky is blue. The sun is out.

Lucas pulls his sunglasses down.

The last few weeks have been long and hard, filled with false hope, excitement and despair. They'd been called in by the investigators, been told they'd thought they'd found him. And those forty eight hours that had followed had been a flurry of unyielding emotion and it had all been so pointless. Because it hadn't been him. It was all a waste of time. All of it. And Lucas hadn't thought things could get worse but last night...he didn't want to relive the last night ever again.

'You heard what Inspector Anderson said Lucas. We're closing in. He's panicking. He's acting brashly. This was done quickly. Carelessly. He knows we're closing in'

'That doesn't make me feel better. What if he moves her? We're finally closing in but he knows it. He wouldn't of done this otherwise. I don't know why the media keep getting informed of any leads. It's just like they're offering him a helping fucking hand' Lucas kicks at the blackened ground.

'Anderson assured us that this-' Larry wavers to the burnt out vehicle. 'None of this will be released. He won't know we've found this'

'It won't make a difference now. He knows. He knows we're here. I feel like we're running out of time'

Larry eyes him. They're both tired. They've not slept in the last twenty four hours and Lucas' optimism and energy has dwindled significantly. They've both been put through a whirlwind of emotion. The investigators had been sombre when they'd arrived at the station. They'd been told of this vehicle. They'd been told that forensics were identifying the license plate number. It wasn't said but it was clear on everyones face that they were nervous of what else was going to be found in the wreckage.

He'd watched Lucas fall apart three hours ago when the long wait was finally over and they'd been told it was definitely Ian's car but asides from being able to identify the number plate nothing else had been salvageable.

'So she, she wasn't in it? It was just the car right?'

'That's right Lucas. It was just the shell of the car. The team are still running tests but it's not likely we're going to be able to track down where the car's been- the fire caused too much damage'

'She's alive. She's alive'

Larry shudders as he recalls Lucas' broken mantra and the way he'd proceeded to hunch over the investigators desk and sob.

'Son' He reaches out, his hand resting on Lucas' back. 'You're tired. The last night has been draining, for the both of us. Why don't we go back to the motel and try and get some rest. You'll feel better after a sleep'

'I'm fine' He moves away from Larry's parental hand and soothing words because he needs to keep it together. He's embarrassed about the way he'd fallen apart. He doesn't know what happened but something snapped and his armour was dented and he was thankful for the dark shades that now masked his eyes because they kept glazing over with tears 'We haven't got time for that. I'm going to start working my way around each neighbourhood in the areas I marked' He fumbles and Larry's face crumples as he produces his creased map from his jeans pocket.

'Luke-'

'If we separate it would make more sense'

'Luke-'

'You can-'

'Lucas!' Larry sternly cuts off. Lucas jumps as the father's arm goes around him. 'Son. That's enough. We'll do that. We will. But not today' On some level he's thankful for Lucas' sudden lapse in optimism because he's being forced to step up, he's being forced to find a strength deep inside that he thought he'd lost.

'I thought she was dead' Lucas blurts out then. 'They made me think she was dead!' He growls and then he's crying again and this time he doesn't run away from Larry's comforting arms, he lets the older man embrace him and suddenly he feels like a young child and he wants Larry to fix this because he's not sure he can anymore.

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She can see his surprise. He has a beer in hand and falters in the doorway for a moment, his eyes trailing down her and that look, that look would have made her clam up before but not now, not today because she needs that look. She needs to garner his trust and that look, that lustful needy stare is her road to achieving that goal.

She moves her right foot slightly in front of the other. She knows the little action makes her legs look longer; not that she needs any help in that department but she's trying to be enticing.

She can remember being about fifteen and standing before a mirror with Brooke. She remembers them posing, remembers them dressing up and pretending to walk down a catwalk. She remembers the brunette telling her how to stand, where to put her hand, how to arch her back just a little, how to look coy. They'd giggled childishly because it was all just innocence. Well it was to Peyton; she'd never used their antics to try and allure boys. She'd never been confident about her body in the same way Brooke was. She'd always hung back and let the sassy brunette lead the way. She realises now that hanging back and not confiding in her best friend is perhaps what led them to the horrible state of affairs that their relationship had become. She realises that perhaps if she'd just been honest from the offset about her feelings where Lucas was concerned then the torrid mess of the last couple of years probably wouldn't have occurred.

But it had. And sometimes she thinks this is her punishment. Because she'd not been brave. She still remembers walking into his bedroom that day having finally plucked up the courage to tell him she wanted him too and then Brooke was there and she'd never felt that before; that earth shattering heartbreak. And she'd not told the brunette. She'd not admitted the reasoning to her visit because in all honesty she hadn't thought she had a chance against Brooke Davis and she'd wanted her best friend to be happy. But she thinks perhaps it was her avoidance of that conversation that had started the war on their relationship. She'd got lured into Lucas' dreamy blue eyed stare. She'd gone behind the brunettes back and instigated the god awful triangle between the three of them.

She looks up at him through her long lashes and she's taken back to a party from that seems to be a lifetime ago, she can hear Brooke's voice in her head. You look so hot when you do that. Do what? That look, you look so innocent but everyone knows you're not. I am! You won't be much longer if you keep giving Nathan Scott that look. Even I'd do you. Brooke had been right, she'd let him take her innocence not three weeks later. She'd not understood back then what a simple look could achieve. She'd not even known she was doing it. She'd been so naive and stupid back then. She'd not really known what she was getting herself into. She knows if she could go back she definitely wouldn't have gone into that room with him that night. They'd barely had a conversation before and the next thing she knew they were having sex and then she was his girlfriend and suddenly she wasn't a little girl anymore. It had all been too quick. She knows if she'd just waited, if she'd not tried to keep up with all her friends, she knows now it would have all been so different. She'd not fitted in, she tried but it wasn't her and that's what those pod casts had been about. It was just her trying to be herself. If she'd just waited she knows it would have been Lucas. It would. He'd always seen her, the real her. She wishes it had been Lucas. She wants to be a little girl again right now. She wants to go back and do it all over. She thinks perhaps she wouldn't be stood here right now if she could go back and do it all over.

But she is here.

'You changed' He states.

She watches his dark stare shamelessly rake down her. She shifts her legs together and he's suddenly pacing toward her. Her hands clutch the back of the chair behind her.

'Yes' She nods and smiles. 'I'm sorry for being mouthy' She declares. He's right before her now and she can see his fingers twitch indecisively; he doesn't know where to touch her first. 'I'm sorry for being rude. I'm sorry for being ungrateful' She takes a little step forward and his free hand finds her narrow waist 'I am grateful'

She can tell he's eaten; the smell of food coats his clothes and her stomach almost growls in protest.

He takes a swig of his beer as he watches her teeter in her heels before setting it down on the dressing table behind her.

He waits for her to beg because this has been the routine as of late. She's argumentative and disruptive one moment and obedient and grovelling the next. But the bargaining doesn't come.

'You've given everything to me. You do everything for me and I know that it must be hard sometimes. It's only fair that I try to be everything you need me to be' She declares somewhat deliriously. Without the support of the chair she'd been leaning on she's suddenly aware of how dizzy she is, something her heels are not aiding. She leans into him, hands latching around his neck; it's a necessity, she thinks she might fall backward if not. 'Do you like my dress?' She husks. 'It's the new one' She reminds him. She'd outright refused to play dress up when he'd presented her with the "gift" but that's seemingly forgotten as he trails his hands up and down the shiny black fabric. It's fitted. They're always fitted, but this one flares out at the waist in a floaty skirt and she feels more like herself than in some of his other choices.

'You're perfect'

'Mhm' She agrees, her nose brushing against his as she nods. She knows she's not perfect, knows he's the last person to think so too because, after all, he's the one that finds flaws in her behaviour day in and day out. But she knows this is his idea of perfection. It's just hard to live up to; looking immaculate. Being submissive. Being alluring. Being beautiful. Being happy. 'I'm wearing your favourite underwear too' She enlightens him. She hears him swallow thickly and then suddenly he's letting go of her and she wobbles as he backs up away from her.

Her confidence dwindles and she blinks as she watches him.

'Come here' He sits down on the edge of the bed.

'Did I do something wrong?' She warily approaches because come here has come with ramifications that have left her uneasy in recent days and she's trying, she's actually trying to be good and if she's failing at pleasing him now she's not sure she'll ever succeed in making him happy.

He smiles. 'No. You didn't do anything wrong. I just need to sit down with you saying things like that. Come here' He holds her hands and she follows his lead, sinking onto his lap. 'I like your hair like that'

'I know' She nods slowly, her lips curling into a seductive smile. She's pinned it back on both sides and the dim light together with her persistent brushing has actually bought it back to life a bit.

'Do you know that it's going to take more than you being willing when it comes to this for me to believe you're changing your ways darling'

'You don't want me?'

'I didn't say that. But it's going to take more than you dressing up to atone for your sins'

'I know' She agrees, she does know. She knows she has to be this twenty four seven, not just for an hour a day. She won't be fooled into thinking this will be the end of his many new rules.

'What are you expecting in return for this little display then?'

'Nothing, just to make you happy' She holds onto his shoulders because the lack of food in her system keeps having her come over light headed and lethargic. 'Am I making you happy?' She wonders aloud because it's easier to ask than wondering and it would be so very disappointing to know this little show wasn't worth her while.

'Mm' He takes her question as emphasis that she's really trying. He jerks her forward, watches her carefully because this is usually the point when she starts to tense, when her face crumples in disdain, when sometimes she makes a bid for escape and a struggle ensues. She doesn't resist though, she ignores the twang of pain that ripples through her battered body and smiles instead. It's small but seductive and his excitement peeks when her fingers start to hoist his t-shirt up. Because she'll unbuckle his belt, undress him under duress but never on her own accord. He throws his arms up and she tugs it over his head and then her little hands are running over his chest and her lips trail a path from his mouth down his neck.

'I want you' She breathes in his ear. 'Show me that I'm yours baby'

Baby. He looses it then because she's being everything he's dreamed of.

She gasps as he moves most abruptly, his hands roughly grabbing her arms and shifting her until she's on her back beneath him. She's not surprised by his need to be in control because this is always about that, it's about him controlling her. She's been counting on that need because she's sure she doesn't have the strength, physically nor mentally to run this show.

She hooks her leg around him and concentrates on the words she's rehearsed in her head because she's not allowed to close her eyes, to try and pretend this isn't happening like she usually does. He wants her present and she's hell bent on giving him everything. This is about her knowing she's his because he needs to see she knows her place, he needs to see, only then will she be allowed out of this place. She knows that now. Freedom will come, just as long as she surrenders her free will and she's surrendering, with every little smile, every kiss, every little action, she's surrendering.

'I love you. I'm yours' She murmurs.

And she can see it in his eyes, feel it in the way he kisses and touches her, she can see his delight and she thinks she should be happy because this was her intention, to make him happy. This was one big game after all and she's winning but that look, that look of triumph he has doesn't make her feel like she's winning at all. Because he's the only one here that's enjoying himself and she doesn't understand how winning can feel so mind numbingly wrong.

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'It's just a couple of questions' Lucas reasons.

The house owner eyes him suspiciously. 'Look I'm not interested okay'

'What are you hiding?'

The man's brow furrows and he pulls his door a little more shut. 'I'm not hiding anything' He retorts.

'If you've got nothing to hide what's the big deal?'

'Look kid the big deal is that you're asking to come and snoop around my house. This is my house, I don't know you and I don't have to let you in. End of.' He tries to shut the door completely and Lucas' foot instinctively lurches out.

'She's in there isn't she?!' He growls.

'What?' The man's eyes are wide and panicked. He grips the door handle harder, pushing his weight against the wooden frame to try and assist him in blocking off the entrance to his home.

'You're helping him aren't you?'

'Look kid, I'm sorry I can see you're upset but I don't know what you're talking about. You need to go. You need to let me close the door now'

Lucas can't hear though. He can't hear anything because if she's in there he needs to save her. He's not slept. He's not slept for the last few days. He can't sleep. And she needs him. She needs him. He needs to save her.

'Move!' He growls and he's not Lucas Scott as he forces his way into this innocent man's humble abode. He's not Lucas as he trespasses through this man's house. He's not Lucas Scott as he pummels his fists into this man's face.

It all happens too quickly. It's a blur.

And soon there are sirens sounding and there's crying. He hears the crying first, it's the crying that stops him.

His eyes are wide and he's panting as he stares at the six year old boy, a shorter, sobbing little girl clinging to her big brothers hand it's their terrified little faces that have him stumbling back, sinking to the ground.

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry'

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'Have you seen the news sweetheart?'

Her eyes dart up because he's only taken to asking such questions when he's got some good news. Good news equals bad news for her. She swallows and braces herself for his next words. He says nothing.

How can I have possibly seen the news when I'm locked in here all day. She doesn't say that though. 'No. I haven't' She murmurs.

She's a little disheartened. She's been so good. She's been oh so good and she's still not been allowed any freedom beyond these four walls. And she's not asked, she's not asked to leave this room, not once. She's not asked for anything. She's wanted to but she's held her tongue. She knows it's what he's waiting for but she won't prove him right. That being said, she'd thought he'd at least have eased up on her a bit after her bought of good behaviour.

He produces a newspaper from behind his back and drops it onto the bed.

She doesn't look. Not for a moment. She goes through the mantra in her head. Don't react. You mustn't react. Don't cry. Whatever it is you mustn't cry. Be good. Be good. Be good.

She eventually lets her eyes drift to the paper in question. Lucas' image fills the page and her heart sinks but she doesn't make a sound, her stare stays steely as she absorbs the information. She knows this is another test. Everything is a test. Lucas is being held by two police officers. He's angry and red faced.

'Look at what a fool he's making of himself. It's actually pathetic'

She wants to reach into the picture and wrap her arms around him because she knows those eyes, knows that the anger masking his face is only disguising his undeniable fear.

She scans the words quickly, tries to take in the report in record time because she knows it'll be confiscated in due course. From what she can gather there was an altercation at the residence he's pictured outside of right here, here in Charlotte and she wants to cry at that alone because he's here, he's nearby, he could be just down the road for all she knows.

'There were kids there Peyton. Kids. And he starts hitting their old man. I mean say what you want about me, I'd never do that'

No. Not when I can be your punching bag. Her mouth is dry. She licks her lips. 'I don't want to know. It's disgusting. It makes me feel so stupid' She tosses the paper aside before he has to do so and her fingers twitch unhappily because she doesn't want to let go. She doesn't care that it's killing her to see him like that, she doesn't want to part with the vision; it's him and she's not seen him in so long. He has stubble on his face that she doesn't remember, his hair is scruffier, he's scruffier. He looks tired. He looks so very tired and she can't help but think how he's mirroring her own health. And it makes her feel sick. Because she's done this. She's done this to him. She's reminded that she's not the only one suffering through this ordeal, Ian Banks isn't only responsible for her pain, the people that care about her are struggling too and she just wants to make it stop.

She lays back on the bed before her eyes inevitably trail back to the crumpled paper, instead averting her stare to the ceiling.

'Don't feel stupid sweetheart' He's soon there. The mattress dips as he kneels on the bed beside her, his face blocking out the dim light. 'It's only when we're pushed to the limits do we see how strong we are. He's not strong. He's weak' His lips are curled into a smile and she wants to turn her back on the pride that's shining in his eyes because it's all so sickening.

'You're strong' She observes. She won't shy away. Not now because she's been doing so well the last few days. She won't ruin it all now. She reaches for his face and pushes the vision of Lucas from her mind. She won't think of him. She can't. Not right now. 'You're strong enough to take care of me' She bites her lip. She's noticed the lust that tends to flower in his eyes with the little action. She's learnt a lot about what turns him on but she's been using that learnt information in the opposite way until recent days. She's been doing her utmost to avoid encouraging him but suddenly her fountain of knowledge feels like a power she'd not even been able to comprehend until now. Because for the first time in the last couple of days she's felt like she's had some control, control over him, even if it was a despised kind of control, it was control just the same.

She pulls on his neck, coaxes his mouth to hers and kisses him gently. She has every intention of urging him to take more but she's just so weary and suddenly keeping herself awake becomes a pressing issue. She pulls back and blinks up into his face.

'I'm sorry I'm so tired, I want to. I do I just...' She yawns. 'I think I need a sleep'

'You need a decent meal' He observes.

She's thankful for her tiredness because she knows if she were more with it she wouldn't be able to stop herself from rolling her eyes at his ridiculously obvious observation. She knows full well that her rationing of food is a key part of her lack of energy and her constant battle to fight off sleep.

'Why don't you come out into the living room, snuggle up on the sofa while I make us some dinner?'

Her eyes widen a little and she feels a little more awake in all of an instant because his words are what she's been waiting for and she wasn't expecting it, had given up on anticipating the moment so much so that it's taken her completely of guard. She wants to disguise her glee but it's tricky because this has been her sole focus, her number one aim and she'd been doubting that her good behaviour was getting her anywhere. She swallows.

'I'd like that' She murmurs.

He smiles. 'Come on then sleepy head' He presses a chaste kiss to her lips and then he's getting up, effortlessly lifting her with him.

She holds onto him, her head spinning a little at the movement and his arms stay around her fragile form, guiding her out of her prison.

And she feels ridiculous at the tears that are suddenly welling in her eyes at being allowed to sit on the sofa, being allowed out of the bedroom.

He sits her down and then migrates into the kitchen area and talks to her as he begins to prepare food. He tells her that there's been a heatwave and that it's unbearably hot outside. He tells her that he's slowly making preparations for when they leave here. He says it's going to take time. She wants to ask where, she wants to ask when but she doesn't. She tells him that she knows whatever he decides is best and she can hear the smile in his voice as he tells her she's right, tells her she can trust him to look after her.

'I know I can' She answers and then she's quiet. She watches him move around the kitchen, watches pots and pans be retrieved from the cupboards, watches taps be turned on and off and when he starts to cut up vegetables she finds herself speaking without thought 'Would you like me to help you do that?' She wonders.

He looks over his shoulder and eyes her for a moment and she panics that she's said the wrong thing.

'I don't have to I just...I thought I could be of use maybe?' She carefully words. She's itching to do something. Anything. And she knows he's winning. Knows this is what he wants. That he's purposefully taken away any minute activity, taken away every small thing that passes the time, because he wants her to crave this. Crave any small job that's one step closer to her playing the part of his little housewife.

'Of course you can baby' He decides with a smile. 'Come here'

She moves quickly before he changes his mind and then she's there beside him, surveying the unprepared vegetables.

'Here' He hands her a peeler and a potato and he watches her meticulously.

'This is a lot of food for the two of us' She notes as she concentrates on doing a thorough job and trying to ignore the fact that she's already exhausted even though she's barely even started.

'Mm. I can't have you wasting away can I?'

He watches her from the corner of his eye, his brow kinking when no mouthy comment escapes her. She looks up at him. 'I'm fine as long as you're happy with how I look' She picks her words carefully.

'Well baby, I'm hoping we can return to always eating meals together because you're starting to look ill. It's not attractive'

She swallows thickly and reigns in words that are bubbling in the back of her throat. I am ill. You've made me like this. She doesn't need to look in a mirror to know she's lost weight. She can feel it where her bones are more prominent than they once were, particularly her hips and collar bone. She can feel it in the way the clothes hang differently. 'I'm sorry' She mutters eventually, because she doesn't know what else to say and apologising is always a safe bet. She's done seeing it as cowardly, it's just a time saver if anything because he goes to great lengths to get the two little words from her and she's been doing so well in evading anymore brutal attacks on her body- she's not keen to break her streak.

'Come here'

She startles. Her eyes wide. Because she doesn't know where she went wrong. Sorry was safe. Sorry was always safe. She walks over to him with caution, her stomach settling as his arm gently latches around her. 'I'm so pleased with how much progress you're making sweetheart' He drawls and her lips quiver as she tries to force them into something that resembles a smile.

'Maybe we should take it upstairs and eat with Gran for once'

Her eyes are wide as she swivels, turning her body to fully face him, trying to disguise her excitement 'Upstairs? Like up there'

'Mm. Like upstairs' He bemusedly echos. 'I have faith that you can handle an hour or so, just for dinner and this time I'll stay with you the whole time just incase temptation gets the better of you'

'It won't. I really did learn my lesson' She tries to contain her smile because this is too much, she was still jubilant over getting to leave the bedroom and now this.

'One wrong word, one wrong move-'

'I won't, I'll be so good. Thank you, Thank you' She gleefully chimes because she'd begun to think she'd have to bear the brunt of his unyielding anger for a lot longer before being allowed out of this dungeon. And she's not lying, she will be good, she'll be so good because she won't screw this up again. She can't afford to because her life is dependent on it. There's not a chance in hell she's going to screw this up again because it's not just about her. The image of Lucas is fresh in her mind and she's reminded that they've not given up on her yet so she's not about to give up either.