"Lucy..." Emily croaked, "You have to find her..." She coughed, blood bubbling from her lips.

"I know, Em, I know," Derek soothed.

"Please," she sobbed. "Ian...he..."

He squeezed her hand. "We'll find her, Em," he promised. "We'll bring her home, okay?"

A tear trickled down her cheek. "You have to save her."

In the silence of the waiting room, Garcia was the first to break the silence; with a sniffle and a quiet hiccup, she asked, "We are going to find Lucy...aren't we?"

For a long time, no one responded, which was answer enough.

The next question was, "What's going to happen to her?"

"I don't think he'll hurt her," Reid reassured, "So long as he has her, he's hurting Emily. He knows that she'll never stop looking for her."

Seaver asked the question everyone was avoiding, "What if Emily doesn't make it?" What she meant was: 'Won't that make Lucy expendable?'

No one had an answer to that. At least, not one that was comforting...

"Where's Lucy?" Emily demanded as soon as she was conscious and cognizant enough to remember the recent events. "Where's my wife?"

"Emily, you need to calm down," JJ murmured from the chair beside the bed where she'd been waiting for her to wake up. "If you don't calm down, they're going to sedate you." She'd already woken up once and panicked to the point of busting several stitches.

"Please," she begged, "Where's Lucy?"

"I'll tell you, but you have to promise to remain calm, okay?" She squeezed Emily's hand until she squeezed back. "Doyle has Lucy," she said slowly, maintaining a tight grip on her hand. "We're doing everything we can to find her, but Em..."

"She's probably already dead," Emily said on a quaking breath.

"We're not going to stop looking, okay?" JJ reassured her.

Emily's breath hitched. "Jayje, she's... I can't... I need her..."

"I know, Em. I can't imagine how difficult this is for you – if something like this were to happen to Will..." She shook her head. "We all care about Lucy and we're doing everything we can to bring her home safe."

Emily nodded once, twice, but she looked lost. "I, umm..." She looked about frantically. "I need to get out of here – where are my clothes?" She started picking at the tape holding her IV lines in place.

"Emily, you need to calm down," JJ urged. "You're still not stable enough to leave."

"I need to be out there looking for her! I know Doyle, I can find him, I just need..."

JJ wrapped her fingers tightly around Emily's wrists to stop her from pulling out the IVs. "Emily, you can't. You know you can't be on this case. You're going to have to trust us, okay? Trust us to find her."

A sob burst forth from her chest in spite of herself. JJ wrapped her in a gentle embrace, holding her as she cried.

Lucy had been with Emily long enough that her first instinct upon waking wasn't to dwell on the unfortunate circumstances, but to evaluate her surroundings, to look for any means of escape.

The room in which she awoke was comfortable, almost, except for the fact that it was very obviously a cage meant to keep her prisoner – with no windows and a sole door which locked from the outside. If she had to guess, based on dimensions and the hollow metal clanking sound when she pounded on the walls, she was being held in a makeshift shipping container...which, unfortunately, meant she could be just about anywhere.

The container had been retrofitted into a little apartment with a sleeping area, a bathroom, and a small sitting area. Without windows, it was impossible to tell whether it was day or night outside, no clocks to alert her to the passage of time and there was no television or computer, leaving her no way of connecting to the outside world. Obviously, it was intended that she'd be there for an extended period of time, though she couldn't for the life of her imagine why he was keeping her alive instead of just killing her...

When the door opened for the first time, she was still coming down off whatever she'd been drugged with to keep her complacent during the journey, meaning she knew she was at a decided disadvantage. Doyle stepped into the makeshift prison, the door immediately closing and locking behind him. He was unarmed – they both knew he didn't need to be; even if she did manage to physically best him, there was no way for her to escape.

"I'm sorry to have to do this," he said and he almost sounded genuine. His eyes never left her, nearly burning her with the intensity of his gaze. "This was never meant to be your fight."

"What do you want from me?" Lucy asked, voice trembling against her will. She could feel her hands shaking at her sides and she balled them into fists lest she give her fear away. She could feel her nails cutting into the flesh of her palm, surely hard enough to leave marks.

"You wouldn't be here if your lovely wife had only given me my son," he continued as if he hadn't heard her. "I don't think it's wrong of me to want my son back – do you?" When she failed to answer, he clicked his tongue almost scoldingly, shook his head, then seemed to change the subject, "Did you decide on a father for your child?"

Lucy's stomach turned over, seeing her future all too clearly. Her legs were unsteady under her and she was forced to sit on the edge of the bed lest she collapse. "Please..." she choked out, even though she knew there would be no dissuading him from what he intended to do.

He reached out a hand to gently stroke her cheek, his hand like ice on her skin. "Perhaps once she knows what it's like to have a child taken from you, she might be convinced to trade my son for your child..."