A/N - please note, this story will go back and forth in time, I will mark it in Italics, But you should pay attention to dates and locations. The story present is March and all past posts are before it.

March 2nd.

00:18 AM

She returned to her senses slowly, registering two things; she was in a cold, humid room and her nausea had returned in full force, the smell of rotten wood and heaven knows what made her squirm and she only hoped to be able to contain herself as she was still tied to the chair. Her gag was gone but she remained silent, already knowing it was useless to scream, having tried it and suffered greatly for her efforts. She kept a steady rhythm of breathing, slow and deep. It took her a while before she noticed that the same sounds were coming from the other side of the room.

There was someone in the room with her; his breaths regular and deep, he was obviously drugged or unconscious. She swallowed, wincing as the burning in her throat intensified. She moved her wrists a little, testing the strength of the ropes that held her hands behind her back. She couldn't move her hands and she knew the cuts on her wrists were bleeding again, it was best if she didn't move at all.

The door opened again, she felt the air in the room moving and braced herself for the upcoming events. To her great surprise, someone lifted the cloth that covered her eyes and she blinked furiously, her eyes getting used to the dim light room. She took a look at the man in front of her, his face covered with a white mask, his body with a white cloak. He hovered closer and she fought the sense of nausea as he untied her hands and legs. She tested her range of movement, feeling a strange sense of relief when all of her fingers were in place. The man handed her a bowl with warm water and a soft cloth before pointing at a man who lay on the floor. "Clean his head." He ordered and left the room, locking the door behind him. She glared at the closed door, having the urge to drop the bowl and ignore the orders. But the man on the floor had a nasty gash on his forehead and she didn't envy him the headache he would suffer from.

She sat beside him with a groan, her muscles protesting her every move. Her hand shook when she touched his face with the cold cloth, he twitched but didn't wake up and she pressed the fabric harder against the skin, trying to clean the dry blood that clung to it. She shivered, her eyes loosing focus for a moment as a wave of dizziness attacked her. She wondered if she had a fever. She paused when the man sighed, mumbling something she couldn't understand, her mind wandering as she remembered a similar scene.

January 5th.

Leland Residence

22:15 PM

Myles imagined alcohol would be his best companion at the moment. With that decision made, he moved towards his liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of scotch and a small glass, pouring the liquid with a humorless smile. He willed his mind to stop flying all over so that he could finally find some peace; unfortunately, he hadn't slept for too many nights now. He moved his hand, the liquid swirling inside the small glass, remembering how happy he was just ten days ago, how content he felt to finally share his thoughts with someone who didn't judge but only listened.

That Christmas Eve was magical, he knew that for sure despite his lack of belief in magic or supernatural. He hurried; they argued over a cab and ended up sharing it, both heading for the airport. With the heavy storm they were both stranded in a deserted hotel and he found an unlikely companion. It seemed like the moment he opened his mouth he couldn't stop talking and the moment he touched her he couldn't stop caressing. As he boarded his plane he had a strange sensation that the entire episode was a dream, that he dreamed about finally finding someone to complete him. By the time he got home, he was absolutely sure of that, he was stressed, he was upset and surely she was nothing but a figment of his imagination. But the e-mail that waited for him in his inbox the following morning was living proof. She arrived home and they have been writing e-mails ever since.

He took a deep breath before pouring the liquid down his throat, wincing as it burned its way down. Hesitating only a second, he poured another glass. He didn't know how long he sat on his leather sofa, pouring and drinking, trying to forget his pain.

His father died.

They all found comfort knowing that it happened fast, that he didn't suffer too much. He was still angry with him before he went into surgery, their last words impersonal as he wished him well but inside wished him every curse he could think of. Myles shook his head, his father's betrayal tore the family apart, the discovery that he was having an affair for about twenty years shattered them all, and he was startled to discover that his father had a heart…just not for his own family. He died two days after the surgery, the tumor was out but his heart couldn't beat anymore.

Myles took a shuddering breath as unexpected tears sprang into his eyes. He didn't cry, not even in the funeral but now he was alone and every wall he built seemed to give out. The sudden ringing of the doorbell startled him and he looked towards the window, the heavy rain hitting on the glass loudly. He placed his glass on the writing desk and hurried towards the door, straightening his tie and hair on the way.

He opened it slowly, having trouble focusing on the woman who stood on the other side, her coat and hair soaking wet. He stared at her for a good thirty seconds; quite sure his mind was playing tricks with him. Maybe he shouldn't have drunk all that scotch. She reached out for him and his mouth opened with astonishment when she touched his forearm. "Myles?" She asked, her voice shaking.

He blinked several times and she suddenly regretted ever coming to see him. When he e-mailed her and told her that his father died the only thing she could think about was holding him close. His e-mail was impersonal, cold, simply informing her and nothing more. He didn't write afterwards, not even after the funeral. It didn't take long for her to decide that she was going to see him, rescheduling her flight plans wasn't a big problem.

But now, it seemed like she acted irrationally, they weren't in a relationship, didn't make any commitment to each other and when she gazed at him she had the feeling that he was not alone. She stammered an apology and turned away from him, her face burning with embarrassment.

He stopped her, finally finding his voice. "Hadar?" He pulled her against him, not caring that his clothes were getting wet. "What are you doing here?"

She buried her face in his shoulder, his hands moving up and down her forearms as he tried to warm her up. "I was worried." She whispered, her voice barely heard over the pouring rain. "I was on my way to New York; I should be there tomorrow night. You didn't write and I thought…"

"Come in." He pulled her inside, carrying her suitcase in his hand. He led her to the bathroom. "You can have a hot shower; I'll make you something hot to drink."

"No, Myles, it's okay." She tried to argue, she didn't want him to take care of her but he shook his head and closed the door after him, leaving her alone in the bathroom.

He busied himself with warming her some soup, the activity seemed to bring some normality into his mind as he heard the water running in the guest shower. He stirred the soup slowly, his heart pounding as a sudden feeling of relief settled inside, he wasn't alone, she came to see him, how could she know he wanted to see her?

She showered quickly and changed from her suit to some comfortable clothes before heading out to search for him. The house was too big and eventually she followed her nose, finding him in his kitchen stirring some soup for her. He turned to her when he heard her opening the door and smiled a little, handing her plate. She thanked him and ate a little just to get warm.

"Aren't you going to eat?" She asked quietly and he shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm not very hungry." He sat down on one of the stools, his head starting to get dizzy.

"Here, take some of mine." She insisted and he managed to eat some before pushing the plate away. "Did you drink?" She asked softly.

He nodded his head, suddenly very tired. "I just wanted to sleep, if I'd known you were coming…"

"You don't need to entertain me." She said, rising from her seat and reaching out for him. "Where is your bedroom? You need to sleep it off."

He led her upstairs, too tired to argue. He simply sank to the mattress, not bothering to cover himself despite the cold. He heard her chuckling and she pulled a spare blanket from his closet and covered him. "Stay." He asked, his tone half commanding half begging. He saw her thinking for a moment before nodding her head and joining him under the blanket.

He immediately reached out for her and she hoped he wasn't too drunk to loose his self control, remembering the last time they spent a cold night together. He pressed closer to her and Hadar startled when his hand snuck beneath her shirt, touching her bare back. He moved it up and down, the touch sending shivers of anticipation everywhere as he molded their bodies closer. She breathed deeply, willing for some control. "Myles, you're drunk." She said softly and he nodded his head, sighing.

"I just want to know…that you're real." He whispered, his eyes closing as tiredness overpowered him. He felt the woman beside him relax and felt her hand as she caressed his face, her fingers finally lolling him into a dreamless sleep.

March 2nd

00:26 AM

Someone grabbed her wrist and pulled her hard, she landed on her back with a hiss of pain, the wet cloth falling from her fingers as the man she took care of pinned her to the floor, holding her hands above her head with his own. She struggled, her knee hitting his stomach. He only held her tighter, one of his legs sneaking between hers as he pushed her down to the floor. "Where am I?" He hissed.

"I don't know. You're hurting me!" She hissed, thrashing beneath him.

Jack focused his eyes slowly, registering the pale face and bruised wrists of the woman he held captive. He removed himself from her body, lowering his head to his hands as the world started to spin around him. He took a few deep breaths before raising his head and looking at her again. "Why am I here?" He had trouble in focusing his eyes, his head pounding.

"I wish I knew." She responded, wincing as she swallowed.

The door opened again and she looked at it warily, sensing that he tensed beside her. A tall man walked inside, his face covered in a mask. Behind him, stood three more men, their faces too, covered with white masks. He approached them and they saw his blue eyes through the holes in the mask, cold as he looked at them. "Agent Hudson, agent Weiss, it's good to finally meet you face to face."

They responded with silence and the man with the mask chuckled softly, moving his eyes to stare at Jack's forehead, examining the bruise. "You'll have a headache in the morning."

Jack arched an eyebrow and pursed his lips, not bothering to inform their captors that he already developed his headache. "I have invested many resources in my research, to finally set my eyes on you two is a privilege, one that you should consider to be yours as well."

Jack focused on his voice, finding that it was familiar yet unable to remember the person it belonged to. He glanced towards the woman beside him, finding that she seemed to be as clueless as he was, her dark eyes narrowing as she looked at their captor. "Why are you hiding behind your mask?" She asked. "Afraid to show your true colors?" She mocked and the man with the white mask approached her.

"Such feisty spirit, I wondered if there was anything left after all those days you kept us company." He reached out for her and pulled her to a standing position, his hand clutching her shoulder. "There is a lesson to be learned, agent Weiss." She glared at him. "You shouldn't have kept contact with him, what was wrong in finding a man of your own breed? Your blood just doesn't mix together…" She spat on his mask and he slapped her, pushing her to the floor roughly.

Jack was powerless to stop him as the three men held him, covering his mouth and nose with a wet cloth, he struggled against them, holding his breathe until he had no choice but to inhale the sweet fumes, hearing the woman's voice as she screamed before falling into darkness.

March 2nd

Hoover Building

10:07 AM

His empty inbox seemed to taunt him, calling his name and then laughing in his face in a voice that reminded him of Randy Pitts. Myles huffed and closed his e-mail, heading towards the coffee machine. Another day passed and he still didn't receive any sign of life from her. He tried hard to think of a way to locate her but couldn't come up with one; his lack of sleep didn't help either, odd nightmares plaguing his nights. At some point last night, he simply gave up sleeping, walking around his house like a zombie, remembering when he first met her on that Christmas Eve.

Memories, they seemed to take control on his mind in the past few days. He remembered the shock of seeing his father after the surgery, suddenly looking fragile and more lifeless then he'd ever been.

He never loved his father; there were some points in his life where he hated the man in the dark business suit that never gave him a second glance and challenged his every decision. But the fact remained that his father died and he was powerless to stop it. Shaking his head, he took a sip of his coffee and sat down in his chair, his hand reaching for the computer mouse and opening his inbox again. It was empty.

You okay, mate?" Bobby raised his eyebrow and Myles shrugged his shoulders, not in the mood for another banter session with his Aussie friend.

Bobby shared a look with Tara who shrugged her shoulders. "Myles, if you need to talk…" She started but the Bostonian shook his head sharply.

"Not right now." He said quietly. "I am fine, just a little worried."

Dimitrius walked inside, carrying a cup of coffee and a few folders. "Has anyone talked to Jack this morning?" He asked, frowning when he didn't receive any reply. "Sue?" He asked and the blond analyst shook her head.

"No, I didn't talk to him this morning."

Dimitrius pursed his lips before turning and facing Bobby. The tall agent nodded his head and left the bullpen. "Lucy, keep on trying his cell phone." He said, leaving the bullpen and following Bobby.