Pain was the first thing Beth is aware of. Her head, her ribs, her stomach, her hip. There isn't a single part of her body that doesn't hurt and the second she tries to move, she becomes acutely aware of how injured she is. Her head feels as if it's in a pressure vice while her arms are pinned behind her back, her wounded shoulder screaming and burning. She moves her fingers experimentally, and a sharp pain slices through her wrists.

"Beth?"

The cautious whisper had her opening eyes she didn't realise she'd kept closed, only for her to immediately jolt. Jamie's face was inches from hers, illuminated red by a light from behind her somewhere. The idiot was looking at her all wide-eyed, his hair in disarray and… was his lip bleeding? She blinked, but the vision didn't clear. His mouth was swollen and misshapen, his bottom lip split open.

She tried to say something, to make a jab about not being so pretty anymore. Only there was something over her mouth, leaving her unable to move her lips properly, sitting oddly on her cheeks. "They duct taped your mouth," Jamie told her helpfully, his voice low. "I don't think they appreciated you trying to bite them."

She glared at him. They were both tied up, she gathered, lying next to each other in the boot of a car. The space might have been large enough that they weren't lying on top of each other, but it wasn't intended for two grown adults. Their legs were bent and tangled around each other, Jamie's larger frame looking distinctly uncomfortable, as squashed as he was. It would have been amusing, if she wasn't in a very similar position.

She tried to shift her weight, only to freeze with a low moan of pain. Her shoulder was on fire, the material of her dress sticking to her skin. Blood, she realised dully, from the brand-new hole in her shoulder. Which at least explained why she was so woozy.

"Beth!" Jamie was leaning closer to her, his voice urgent. "You need to lie still. Close your eyes."

What? Was he crazy? She glared at him again, trying to communicate exactly what she thought of his suggestion, only he wasn't looking at her. He was looking upwards, face pinched and now she could hear voices, growing louder and louder. He glanced back at her, panic etched into his features. "Beth, pretend! Now!"

She did it. Rested her head back down, closed her eyes. Tried to relax, even as her body screamed in protest. And just in time, because the boot was wrenched open and light flooded over her closed eyelids. There was a long, drawn-out silence. Beth's heart was thudding so loudly she didn't wonder if they couldn't hear it, thumping against her breastbone as she fought to keep her breathing steady.

"Gentlemen. Explain to me, please, which part of my instructions confused you enough that you decided to abduct the attorney general?"

Beth almost stopped breathing entirely. She knew that voice. She had thought Roarke Morris was no more threat than a fly would be- a little annoying, but easy enough to destroy in the end. This? This she had not seen coming. The two other men were blustering, babbling about Jamie seeing everything, coming out of nowhere, how they hadn't thought they should kill him on the road. And then they abruptly cut off, simultaneously, and she heard someone take a breath.

"I do apologise, Attorney General Dutton. You weren't intended to be involved in this. But now that you are..."

"Involved in what? Who are you?"

"That's a long story. Your sister has been making life… difficult for us."

"She does that." Jamie sounded remarkably mild considering the circumstances.

"Well, it can't continue. And now that you're already here…" He clicked his tongue. "This would have been easier if it were just Beth. A woman gets abducted, it's simpler to cover up. People don't go looking deeper. You, on the other hand, you are going to be tricker."

A different voice spoke. "We could take him back to his car? Make it look like an accident."

"Can you do that without screwing it up as badly as this?"

Beth felt sick. She risked opening her eyes a smidge, and could read Jamie's expressions well enough to see the barely concealed panic on his face. They were alone out here. There was no one coming to the rescue this time, no last minute miracle. Rip wasn't on his way, alerted by a text, it was entirely possible that no one even knew that she was missing, let alone kidnapped. And who would think to look for Jamie? His disappearance wouldn't even be noticed until he didn't turn up for work.

Unbeknownst to her, Jamie was thinking exactly the same thing. Unlike Beth, he'd been conscious throughout this experience. He had seen the way the men who had thrown them both into their jeep had been so careless, had seen the way that not only had their gazes lingered on his sister, but their hands had too. Coupled with this man's comment about women disappearing… he had a very bad feeling about this.

Without warning, hands reached down and pulled him from the car, sending him sprawling with a grunt of pain. He'd barely pushed himself up onto his knees, when he heard the thud of Beth's entire body being dropped to ground, her cry of pain provoking a laugh from their captors.

"That woke her up!"

"Feisty mare, isn't she?"

Beth's head had caught the tailgate on the way down, slicing open and now blood welled up in the wound, beginning to streak down her forehead. Jamie could only watch in horror as one of the men leant down, and tore the front of her dress open, exposing her to greedy eyes. She yelped through the tape, he shouted and it all went downhill from there.

"Leave her alone!" He tried to push upwards, found himself shoved back down. His hands were still bound behind him and the weight of his body pushed his fingers backwards. He heard a snap. White hot pain cascaded through him, obscuring his vision but he could hear Beth making noises through her duct tape and with gigantean effort, he rolled over to see one of the men had now straddled her hips, one hand gripping her hair while the other fondled her breast.

Jamie and Beth had a difficult relationship. He had very little doubt that she hated him, and the proximity of the past few years had not helped matters. If anything, it had only made things worse. And he would convince himself that he hated her in return, that her bitterness was undeserved and poisonous, that their relationship was shattered, non-existent. But then, every so often, she would look at him a certain way, and all he could see was his little sister. The toddler who had held her arms up to him to be carried, the little girl who had stolen his hat to wear and giggled when it covered her eyes. Hours spent watching her shop, driving her to and from school, sneaking her cookies when she was in trouble.

For all their faults and complications, Beth was still his sister. His little sister, and right now she was afraid.

Jamie lurched forward and kicked out, as hard as he could. A little judgement and a lot of luck had his foot meeting the knee of the man holding him, something crunching as the man yelled out and collapsed to the ground, his gun skidding away through the dirt. Jamie lunged for it. When they had been young and foolish, he, Kayce and Lee had once spent an entire summer practicing shooting from behind their backs, like in some film they'd watched. They had gotten pretty good too, until their father had become suspicious of the missing bullets and followed them out one day. Jamie still recalled the furious reaming out they'd been subjected to for being so careless with a weapon capable of killing. At the time, he'd regretted what they'd done. Now, he was rather glad of it.

He fired off a shot, but the angle was made all the more difficult by his bound wrists and the pain in his broken fingers. The bullet went wide, but the shot was enough to attract the attention of the man on top of Beth. He turned his head, scowling. "God's sake, he's tied up!" He snapped at his friend. "Just kill him already."

"Not yet. Let the bastard see what we're going to do to his sister."

Beth is unaware of any of this. Her head is ringing, a consequence of unceremoniously meeting the ground when she was pulled from the car, while the world around her seems to be whirling and tilting of its own volition. The weight of the man on top of her is pressing her into the dirt and it hurts, the way her wrists are bound behind her and her weight presses down on them. But it's nothing compared to the panic and sheer terror she feels at the knowledge of what these men are going to do to her. It's obvious. She can see the growing bulge in his trousers, the expression on his face and she's not sure whether she's more horrified about what's going to happen or the fact it's going to happen in front of Jamie. The tape over her mouth prevents her from screaming, and she tries to throw him off but she has no leverage and she's trapped, helpless to do anything about the way foreign hands roam over body. Her tenuous grasp on consciousness meant that his touch seemed to be everywhere at one, smothering and sinister in its prevalence.

Until the weight is suddenly gone. She can breathe again, as much as possible with her mouth still taped and somewhere to the side of her Jamie's hollering, shouts and the sounds of a scuffle filling the air. She turns her head just in time to see Jamie land face down in the dirt, almost instantly scrambling back to his knees and continuing to spit words at the two men circling him. He doesn't look like the brother she knows. He's angry and fierce, well past the point of fear and her ears are ringing, she's seeing the way his mouth is forming shapes but she can't tell what he's saying. She recognises his expression though. It's the one he wears when goading someone, like when he challenges another lawyer to answer a question he already knows isn't in their favour. So she isn't that surprised when the taller of the men chuckles- and she thinks she might be able to hear it- before he tosses a knife to the ground.

It's almost apathetically that she watches Jamie practically fall over himself in his haste. He has to bend backwards, spine arching to a ridiculous degree as his fingers scrabble in the dirt in search of the weapon, until Beth blinks and suddenly Jamie is on his feet. Her vision is swimming and blurring, snapshots of the scene before her flashing before her eyes. There's blood, dripping into the dirt, shockingly crimson against the brown of its backdrop. Dust clouds flying through the air, disturbed by feet and knees. The blade of a knife catches the sun, glinting silver. Like a fish, Beth thinks, slicing through crystal water.

And then Jamie is on the floor, rolling and his suit is going to be hell to clean, she muses absently, smeared with dirt and blood. His face is bruised and battered and one hand is hanging awkwardly, but he still rams his shoulder into the stomach of the shorter men and they both crash to the ground, Jamie on top and he punches and punches and punches until the taller man is suddenly there, lunging with a knife in his hand. They both tumble over the ground in a tangle of swinging limbs and it would be now, Beth thinks dazedly, in the middle of goddamn nowhere when he's outnumbered and outskilled that for the first time in his life, Jamie would choose to be selfless. To put someone else over himself, even it meant getting killed.

She blinks again, the world before her a sandy brown blur, stained pink and red. It's confusing, the colours swirling with each movement of her eyes and she's vaguely aware that it hurts to breathe, every inhalation causing stabs of pain through her ribs. Not that it will matter soon, she thinks. Jamie must be dead by now, and although she tries to convince herself that that's good news, she can't quite manage it. She supposes it didn't matter. She'd be joining him soon enough anyway.

Through the vague, multi-coloured blur that seems to be her vision now, a figure rises from the ground and approaches her. She can't make out much more than the dark clothes, can't tell which man it is coming for her but she closes her eyes anyway. She doesn't want to see.

It's a strange sort of agony, waiting. It seems forever that she lies there, not sure whether it will be the touch of a hand or a bullet that comes. Right now, she isn't sure which she would prefer. And even though she's expecting it, that doesn't stop her from her flinching when she feels fingers brushing against her cheek.

"Beth?"

A hand lands on her shoulder and she cringes away, head tossing, trying her best to push herself away even as the grip on her increases, prevents her from moving. Loud, desperate moans fill the air and Beth barely even realises that they're coming from her.

"Beth! Beth it's me!"

Her eyes fly open, searching blindly. She still can't see properly, the figure hovering over her little more than a hazy blur and she fights the best she can because it's all that there's left for her to do, but then there's a hand cupping her face and slowly the words begin to make sense.

"You're safe, they're dead, Beth, they're dead. They can't hurt you again."

She feels material swipe at her eyes and head, and it's only then that she realises the red and pink colouring her vision is from blood dripping into her eyes. Wiped away, she closes her eyes for a moment and when she opens them, her vision is clearer, Jamie's blurry face coming into view. She doesn't know what she looks like, but his expression softens as he looks down at her, thumb stroking over her cheekbone. "They're dead," he repeats, and she watches his mouth form the words. "We're safe."

She's stopped trying to fight him now. She stares at him, half shocked, half uncomprehending, until he goes blurry again but this time it isn't blood that's at fault. She's not quite sure how he's here, crouched in front of her and for a brief moment, she wonders if she's merely hallucinating. Until he grips her by the shoulder and gives her a shake. "Beth?"

She blinks away tears, and swallows harshly. His gaze is drawn by the movement and his expression becomes grim, his hands moving to her shoulders. "Can you sit up?"

She stares at him blankly. It isn't until he nudges at her again that she understands, his words echoing around her head. She has no idea of the answer, but relieving the pressure against her wrists sounds good. She shifts her weight, gritting her teeth against the pain and Jamie seems to realise because his arm slides beneath her shoulders, the other around her waist to help her and as fire rockets through her body, she screams.

The next thing she's aware of, she's slumped against the tyre of the jeep. Jamie is knelt in front of her, hand around her chin to tip her head up. "You're awake," he says, and there's something like relief in his voice. "I'm just taking the tape off."

It's all the warning she gets before she feels his fingers sliding across her face to catch the end of the tape, followed by the sharp burn as he tears it off. Her lips are sore and cracked, something she becomes acutely aware of as she licks them tentatively and tastes blood on her tongue. Jamie has sat back on his heels and is watching her silently. He looks as bad as she feels, his clothing torn and dirty, blood staining both cloth and skin. His left eye is swollen shut, his lip split and trickling blood and if she isn't mistaken, he has at least two dislocated fingers that she can see.

For a moment, they merely stare at each other. Until Beth tilts her head, and swallows thickly.

"Fuck."

Jamie snorts in laughter. "Yeah," he agrees, and shifts his weight from his knees, moving to lean against the car next to her. It's only now that Beth realises her wrists are no longer bound, and she studies them for a moment. Jamie must have cut the ties when she was unconscious. Angry red lines are welded into her skin, so deep she's surprised they haven't broken through. They ache as she rotates her hand experimentally, but they're usable and compared to her ribs and shoulder, the pain is almost unnoticeable. It's only when she notices that her skin has an odd hue to it that isn't usually there that she realises that the world around them is golden, and she isn't being poetic. The sun is dipping into the horizon, casting a glow across the land and she thinks there might be a problem with that, although she can't quite figure out exactly what that would be right now.

Jamie is shaking her arm, fingers tight and she turns her head to scowl at him. She's too exhausted to do more, despite the fact she would have usually taken a chunk out of him for daring to touch her. But instead of jumping away as she's expecting, he just looks an odd combination of amused and worried. "You're really out of it," he comments roughly. "Is it the drugs or the head injury?"

She should answer him, she knew, some scathing retort that would have him cowering away. Only she can't quite think of one, so she simply stares at him in silence. To her irritation, he merely huffs a laugh that is quickly followed by a wince as the movement aggravates injuries. She smirks faintly, and turns away.

"Do you have any idea where we are?"

His voice grates on her, but he has a point. Beth focuses on the mountains she can see in the distance, but they're blurry and indistinct and she's forced to shake her head. Only to regret the movement a mere moment later when the world tilts disorientatingly and the pain pounds its own rhythm on the inside of her skull. She presses her eyes closed, and wishes for unconsciousness.

She hears Jamie stand up with painstaking slowness, and listens absently to the faint noises as he moved around the area. She doesn't know what he's doing, and can't bring herself to care. Doors open and close again, and she hears him cuss under his breath a few times.

She doesn't notice when the world drifts away again.

It's Jamie's hand on her arm that jerks her back to consciousness. He's pressing something to her shoulder, causing her to yelp and she thinks she hears him murmur an apology, but it's drowned out by the pounding in her ears. It's darker now, the sun has dipped low enough that only the last vestiges of light remain and there's a distinct chill in the air that her torn dress has no protection against. She resists a shiver, wishing she could wrap her arms around herself but unwilling to put the strain on her sore ribs.

"We need to get inside the car." Jamie tugs at her arm, but she pulls away with a frown. He grinds his teeth together. "Beth! It's nightfall. It won't be long before those two attract attention from the local wildlife." He jerks a thumb in the vague direction their captors lay. "We really don't want to be outside for that."

She could recognise that he had a point, but just the act of breathing had something inside her feeling like it was tearing apart. Standing? Climbing into a car? That was going to be an issue.

Jamie didn't seem to realise, or care. "Come on." He gripped her elbow as she carefully sat upright, hissing through her teeth. Almost immediately, she swayed and Jamie hastily wraps his arm around her, keeping it there as she moves her legs to the side, intending to push onto her knees until he spoke up. "Shit, your feet."

She follows his gaze, and grimaces. Amongst the other pain, she hasn't even noticed that her feet were torn and bruised, dirt and grass embedded in open wounds. From her initial escape attempt, she assumes, and vaguely remembers her feet catching on the broken fence when she'd been dragged over it.

Jamie's jaw clenches. "Can you even stand?"

She shoots him a withering look. It takes every ounce of willpower she possessed, but she shifts onto her knees and blinks rapidly as the world slides in and out of focus. Jamie is talking to her, murmuring encouragement or possibly taunts but she pointedly ignores him, hand groping blindly behind her so that she could use the car to lever herself upwards. It robs her of the air in her lungs, the ground beneath her feet lurching and rocking and she's barely aware of Jamie fumbling for the door, wrenching it open so that she can lean against the seat inside. She's gasping for air, made all the more difficult by the fact that her ribs scream with every slight movement.

"Beth?"

She lifts one, shaky leg onto the ledge, takes a breath as deep as she can manage, and boosts herself backwards.

She isn't even surprised when she opens her eyes, and finds herself in a new position she didn't remember getting into. She has no doubt that Jamie used to opportunity to drag her further into the car so that she's now sprawled across the back seat, and she must have made a noise as she woke because he turns to look at her from the passenger's side in the front. "You awake?"

She nods carefully, just once. Outside, night has truly fallen, a true darkness that only comes from being miles from civilisation. If she tilted her head back, she would be greeted by an extraordinary view of the stars, she thinks, but just the idea of doing so makes her feel nauseous.

"Beth?" Jamie sounds hesitant and worried, eyeing her in the light of the torch he's holding. He'd found it in the glove compartment of the car, along with a single bottle of water and some empty sweet wrappers. "Why won't you talk?"

Because she's only said a single word, and it's beginning to freak him out. Beth blinks, stares at him for the longest moment. And shrugs her good shoulder at him. For once, she isn't being difficult- she genuinely doesn't know. Her throat is swollen and sore, and from the bruised feeling she thinks she had a hand wrapped around it at some point. Not that she recalls exactly when. But talking is the last thing she wants to attempt and Jamie doesn't push her, merely sighing almost inaudibly and turning back to the front. "Get some sleep, Beth," he says, and within seconds her breathing evens out.