It was dark, he was, or had been bleeding; he could feel caked blood over his ear. Motor oil and grease soaked concrete were sharp in his nostrils. His hands were bound with handcuffs and attached to an old pleather and metal couch. The tube aluminum was pitted with rust, like an old diner, his cuffs sliding up and down with a dirty scrape; an old gas station diner maybe? The shuffling of feet and voices were distant.

He kept shaking his head, trying to clear it. Hearing an engine drive up, he shifted, trying to figure out a way to pull his hands loose. His head hurt like hell, the scraping making him flinch.

Raised voices caught his attention, muffled. A lot of yelling ensued, commands. A door across the room suddenly opened, light scouring his eye sockets as someone flicked the switch.

Kara pressed her lips together. "Uncuff him, let him drive out of here."

He kept blinking to clear his vision, he recognized the voice. He knew what was happening, but couldn't make his lips move. He was coming out of a concussion. He had been at the house, he couldn't remember what happened. He had tried to get through to Grissom, he thought he'd heard something. Sniper rifles, coke, guns…

The conversation was going on around him and he couldn't focus, pressing his eyes together over and over to clear his head.

"C'mon. You really didn't think…" a man said. He was dressed neatly in a dark casual suit; a low caliber pistol held tightly in one hand at his side, dark hair cropped tight to his head.

His friend was a bit rougher around the edges, unshaven, chewing on a toothpick and looking at Nick.

"Hey, wake up," he kicked the side of Nick's shoe. "You need to be awake for our fun."

"I'm unarmed," her voice was sharp, glaring at the second guy, then back to the first. "Tell Ricker I'm prepared to do what it takes, but that man needs to walk out of here, alive."

She put her hands behind her head so they could frisk her. They looked at each other, both seeming apprehensive to touch her.

"Ricker's already on his way. Why don't we just ask you to wait here until he gets here?"

She nodded, putting her hands together. They looked at each other again; they didn't want to touch her.

"You put the silver things around my wrist, then you lock them," she said, her voice irritated. "You can hand them to me and I can do it if it makes you feel safer. You can't let old rumors scare you…"

The toothpick in his mouth moved slightly, he laughed nervously. He was uncomfortable.

Her eyes slid to the other, who finally ordered her to kneel, putting them on and cuffing her to the other arm of the old couch.

"Kara?"

She glanced at Nick, the blood over his ear signaling a probable concussion.

"Shut up Nick," she said shortly, her eyes sliding back and forth to the two men.

They were lingering, this was not good. She'd gotten them to put her in the same room, bully for her; but she didn't like where this was going.

They were nervous about holding her until the boss got there.

Nick's eyes were clearing, focusing. Two men's faces pulled together in his vision, the other didn't fit into the picture for a moment. The cuffs suddenly pulled taught as he snapped into reality.

"Leave her alone!" Nick snapped.

The suit glowered slightly, the other chuckled to himself, spitting out the toothpick. They were regaining their composure, and developing a plan of action to keep her subdued.

She drew a slow breath, knowing how this worked.

The couch jerked slightly, but not budging from the floor, muscles on his neck straining as he pulled at the cuffs. He was incredibly conscious again, fueled by adrenaline.

"Nick close you eyes… please," she mouthed.

He stared at her, intense panic behind them as he realized what was about to happen. "Kara, what are you doing?" he said sharply.

Scruffy tapped his shoe on her leg a moment before reeling back and slamming his fist into her jaw. The rest of the punches were sharp, severe. Her neck whipped to one side as she felt her muscles strain and flesh split. His knee followed up, and she felt her nose crack.

"That's just the tip of the iceberg," the suit said, glaring at Nick, but speaking to her. "Can't have her wandering away."

He followed up with a searing kick to her side.

She gasped, not able to catch her breath. He pinned her elbow onto the side of the couch with the toe of his boot. A distinct cry of pain escaped her lips as he leaned on it with his full weight. The grunt of pain turned to a scream as he leaned further into it.

"Stop it!" Nick screamed, planting his feet to jerk at the couch again. It was bolted to the floor.

"How's the elbow?" He leaned near her face, "Don't even think about going anywhere." The same jackal-like laugh seemed extremely amused. "Ricker's going to have fun with you, and your boyfriend. For all the trouble he's gone through to get to you, I'm thoroughly disappointed it wasn't harder to get you to shut up," he snapped, turning off the light and closing the door, locking it with a decisive click.

They were met with intense darkness as she wheezed, trying to calm her gasps as she fought to hear their muffled voices on the other side of the door. "Stay at the door, if she moves, kill the guy." She could see light underneath the door, shadows moving. She heard weight drop into a chair and it tip back against the wall. Scruffy was on the other side of the door, sitting in a chair.

Nick found his voice. "Kara, talk to me… please."

It was distant in her ears. She was passing out, she couldn't pass out. Burning tears had sprung to her cheeks; it hurt to breath. Her elbow felt severed from her body, but she knew it was still there, screaming at her to remain awake.

She could hear tears in his voice

Sucking a quick breath, she spit blood several times, strings hanging from her lip. All her teeth were still intact. She could feel blood welling under her eye, it hurt to breath.

"Kara," the silence was deafening.

Her breathing was strained for a moment as she sniffled. "I'm gonna get you out of here."

Her nose felt broken, blood trickling over her lip from her left nostril. She was glad it was dark, she was… embarrassed… for him to witness this. Her head kept dipping into darkness. She clenched her eyes, trying to fight it, a growl through her teeth.

"Talk to me…" she said, her words slightly impaired.

He knew she was losing the battle with consciousness.

"If I pass out, we will both die…" she spit blood again, reaching to her hair. Every time she leaned her head down to pull a bobby bin from her hair, her brain was flushed with dizziness.

"Where are we going on our first date?" he asked.

She blinked, the words striking hard at her brain.

"Huh?"

"I was thinking we could go to dinner, not just any dinner, but a really nice restaurant."

She smiled slightly, her eyes still fluttering.

"I live alone, I love romantic places, moonlit walks on the beach and soft music. And you have to meet my mother, she'd love you. I like petite redheads, preferably those that can fire sniper rifles…"

He was trying to be funny. She wheezed slightly, finally able to take a full breath.

Leaning her head toward her fingers again, she pulled a bobby pin from her hair. She was silent, an occasional sniffle as she chewed the plastic knob off the end and shimmed it into the cuffs around her wrists, leaning her head down to get the other one.

"Kara?"

"Yah," she coughed several times.

"Are you all right?"

"Yah,"

A pause hung in the air.

"Are you sure?" he was quiet.

"Yah…"

"If we get out of this, I still want to take you to dinner."

Her eyes smiled slightly as the lock began to give and she slid one hand out.

Every time she sniffled felt like a stab to him. His chest burned, the anger pent up over the last several days. She wasn't a battered wife, she was a battered soul. She willingly did this to herself. For what?

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice had focused.

"I think so."

"Did they rough you up?" she asked.

"I got hit on the head, other than that I seem fine," he felt ashamed to even suggest he was injured.

The clinking of her cuffs came to a stop as she stood up and tucked the cuffs into her back pocket. Moving very silently to the door, she pressed her ear against it.

A wave of nausea washed over her, and she sank to one knee with her fingertips still on the door. She tried to clear her vision, the pain still bright in her mental picture through the darkness. Her fingers were quivering as she reached up to follow the line of her nose; it wasn't broken. She wiped the blood under her nose on her arm. Her arm was shaking, quivering with sharp tremors as she tried to knead it.

She slowly got up again, walking silently over to him.

She knelt, reaching behind his head to feel the dried blood. She tore a section of her tee shirt off to stop the bleeding, wiping the blood from his ear. It hadn't quite stopped yet.

She went to work on his handcuffs with the same bobby pins from her hair, shimming them open and picking the lock, her fingers fumbling off the lock when her hand began to shake. She lost the bobby pin in the dark.

"Dammit…" she hissed under her breath.

"It's okay," Nick whispered. "It's by my foot. Take your time."

"We don't have time," she leaned over him, her fingers touching the ground softly, picking it up again.

He watched her work through the darkness, the flutter of her eyes as she fought to stay alert. Suddenly she dipped, falling against him slightly as he strained to hold up both their body weights in a sitting position.

"Kara," he whispered in her ear, leaning her head up with his shoulder. "C'mon Kara."

Her fingers abruptly slapped on the floor to push herself up; breathing deeply. She turned his hand and kept working on the lock.

"Hey…" he said tenderly. "I'm sorry."

She was silent, blinking hard to fight unconsciousness.

He heard her lips move, the same words over and over as she concentrated. He could feel the tremor in her arm that was touching his chest; her bicep was shaking.

"Are you okay?"

She wasn't okay, she as on the verge of a crash. She couldn't do this. She'd promised, but she was having doubts. He didn't deserve this, none of them did. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hands, she paused, hearing someone at the door.

The door lock clicked.

She got up with a hobbled scrape, leaving the pin shimmed in his cuffs and moved swiftly to place herself behind the door as it opened, dizziness flushing past her eyes.

A thin sliver of light illuminated the room. Scruffy peered in. Seeing her not there, his gun pulled out. It was too late; grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back at an odd angle, her fingers slapped on his lips to keep him quiet.

"Elbow's fine…" she hissed in his ear as she twisted his neck, with a muted snap, laying him down quietly as he twitched a moment, then fell silent.

Her fingers grabbed her arm as she fell against the wall, gasping at the pain…

Gritting her teeth, she went through his pockets, stuffing his gun in the back of her pants and moving back to Nick.

She heard another car drive up.

The cuffs snapped open and he got up.

"We have to go now…" she quipped. "Now!"