(Okay, I know the first chapter was really short, and really lacking in details, but I swear I'll try to make up for it here. There was a lot of things I forgot to explain in there, so I edited it, and there's A LOT more stuff in there. So, if you happened to be one of the bored ones that decided to read my fanfic that I wrote 4 months ago, please reread my first chapter. Thanks! Cheers--)

Emma looked up but could see only darkness. Someone had a hand over her mouth, or, at least she though they did. It could be duct tape, or possibly her mouth was just too sore to even move A shudder quivered up her spine, making her shoulders shake with cold, or was it fear? She couldn't tell, and she didn't know. Lying on her side along the concrete, icy floor, it was hard to figure out where she was. Her vision was clouded, and everything in the room..or, what she thought was a room, was tinted in blues and grays. She tried numerous times to shake her head to see, but it only made her headache worse, and pound harder. Slowly, trying to shift into another position, her legs ran across a muddy, and deep puddle. As the water splashed about, it felt refreshing and soothing, but dreadfully cold and painful at the same time. Of the frequent thoughts running through her skull, she tried to joke with herself , "Man, of all the days not to have worn pants..". But even that could not cheer her up. She knew that she had to figure out where she was, what had happened, where the others were, and if they were okay.

She couldn't see, but from the mixture of touches she had gotten from around the room, she could tell there was nothing to see. It felt cool and damp, as if she lay in a sewer somewhere. There was a slight aroma of a recognizable chemical formula, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. There seemed to be something so proverbial about the place she was in.despite its state. In her mind, it seemed to be darting from one place to another, knowing the exact path to get out of the place she was in. Being the psionic that she was, she knew she could use this to her advantage, although she wasn't sure that if this emotion she was getting was her own memories of this dwelling, or if it was someone else's.

Scanning the room, she tried to take visual notes. There was water dripping from the ceiling; she couldn't see it, but the obvious splashes in the background were a dead give-a-way. Listening even harder, there was another sound in the room, but she couldn't quite match what it was. Sort of like a heavy heaving/breathing, yet it didn't sound human. The hard, uneven concrete brick walls made scratches along her hands as she ran them overtop. A cool draft blew in from the roof, and cracks in the walls and floor gave her a rough idea of what the room looked like. Images still were fuzzy, and she tried to rely on her other senses to give her some idea of what was going on. In a sudden instant of realization, she tried to run her fingers along her neck, searching for the cool, black, and smooth feel of the subdermal govenor. But it wasn't there. "Well, that rules out possibility #1," she alleged aloud to herself, although there was a nagging feeling in her that suggested she might be wrong. She was about to shrug it off, when she heard a voice from the other side of the room.

"Yeah, you've got that for sure." Emma jolted right out of her skin, but calmed down long enough to try and identify the familiar voice on the other side of the room. The tone of voice was hoarse, and it sounded painful for the other party to try and speak. She couldn't tell how far away the body was---the voice itself was barely audible, straining to be heard. Trying to etch alongside of the freezing floor, she inched towards the direction she thought the voice was coming from. She couldn't stand up, and could only move along her side, brushing her bruised shoulders along the concrete, with dust and dirt sweeping into her mouth. As difficult as it was, she kept going. In an effort to have a conversation going, Emma spoke out,

"What?" as if she hadn't heard what they had originally spoken. A meek reply was heard from, what only Emma could guess, the far off corner of the room. She tried to peer harder, but to no avail. Moving somewhat faster and closer, she neared the object in the distance. The husk voice sounded so familiar, but foreign at the same time. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't identify who it was.

After her eyes had been tightly shut for an extensive period of time, she tried to open them again. It was impossible for her to keep them open as she scotched along the floor, but she had to take a much-needed break. It was too exhausting for her to do this, especially with her upper-body wincing with pain with every move.

Examining the room, her sight was being slowly returned and her conversation with the familiar stranger was gradually getting somewhere. Although it was evident now that no one was in the room that was going to cause her any danger or harm, and the person who was covering her mouth was non-existent, she couldn't help but feel afraid. After all, after being kidnapped, and awakening in pain, one couldn't help but feel scared.

She squinted her eyes some more, and it suddenly came to her who her mysterious stranger-friend was:

"JESSE!" she tried to scream, but only came out as a hoarse whisper, as she feverishly tried to crawl towards him. He smiled roughly, but the pain was in his eyes as he glanced toward her. Wincing at the pain, Emma would stop at nothing to get to him. Something was desperately wrong with him. She could read it in his eyes, and feel it in her heart.