Amelia knew that there was no one coming for her. She knew that she was on her own and that was why she had to find a way out of the mess she had gotten herself into. She was exhausted, her body aching from being forced to stand up and her weight barely on her feet. Her wrists were above her head, chained to the ceiling. She was inches away from a bare brick wall, but leaning against it offered her no relief. She was standing, practically, on her toes, her calves stretched and her muscles protesting at the way she stood.

She had been so close to getting out of the hotel. Her case had been packed by the door and she had been ready to go, but then she had looked into the corridor and she had seen him. He was there and he was moving towards her, three men behind him. She had tried to hide in the hotel room, but they had gotten to her before she could lock the door. She'd tried to find her gun in her bag, but one of the men had grabbed her before she could get away.

Before she had a chance to scream for help, Andrew had taken her by the hair and slammed her head against the coffee table, knocking her out cold. She swore that she could feel dried blood on her forehead and she felt woozy as she came around in some dark, damp basement. There was nothing else in the room except for her. There was no furniture. There was no window. There was only a staircase at the other end of the room that led down into the room and a dim bulb hung in the centre of the space, hardly offering any light.

Amelia had tugged on the chains around her wrist to try and escape, but her hand couldn't fit through them and she couldn't get them off from the ceiling. Grunting in frustration, she tried not to cry. Crying wasn't going to get her anywhere.

She wondered if Bucky had gone to the bridge. Did he think that she wasn't going to show for a purpose? He would, surely, just chalk her absence down to her not bothering with him. But she didn't know. A part of her hoped that he, maybe, had some faith in her that she was going to show. Maybe then he would know something bad had happened. But why should he care? She had been complicit in almost ruining his life so why should her own life matter to him?

Stifling a sob at the thought, she bit down on her tongue. She wasn't going to show any weakness. She couldn't. After a few moments, she heard the door open above and she inhaled a sharp breath. She held it in as footsteps moved down the staircase and she looked to it. She shouldn't be surprised that she saw him coming towards her. Saying nothing, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of watching her speak first.

He didn't deserve that.

He moved to the centre of the room, a metre or so away from Amelia. He was still wearing a navy three-piece suit without a tie against his white shirt. His hair was shorter than when she had seen him last and his face even looked older, wrinkles forming on his forehead and age clearly catching up with him compared to when she had seen him and he had looked almost too youthful.

"I take it you know who I am?" Andrew spoke to her.

"Yeah," was all Amelia replied with, trying to play any game she had to in order to get out of this place. She said nothing else and Andrew nodded thoughtfully, pacing around the basement, his footsteps echoing around the bricked walls.

"And aren't you curious as to how I found you?" Andrew wondered from her and she shrugged awkwardly once his beady eyes had landed on her. She wasn't giving him the satisfaction of looking worried. He didn't deserve that from her. But Andrew wanted her talking. He wanted her to ask him questions, for him to show her that he would always win.

"Not even a little bit?" he continued pushing her when she didn't respond to him.

"What do you want, Andrew?" she wondered. "You want me to be in awe at your detective skills? Or do you want me to be scared that there is clearly nowhere for me to hide from you?"

Anger flashed across his face and in his eyes. "You always were a mouthy bitch," he responded. "Thinking that you're tougher than you actually are. But you're not, are you?"

Again, she didn't reply. Instead, she remained mute, not giving him the satisfaction of retaliating. But, luckily for her, she got her own answers because Andrew liked the sound of his own voice. He was clearly thrilled with how he had found her.

"You see, I found out that you had disappeared in Berlin," he said to her. "I knew you were lying to me when you said that you were going to Paris, but I never pushed it…but when I hacked into your computer and found the flight to Berlin had been booked, I couldn't believe that you were still going to see him. You really couldn't move on, could you?"

Amelia chewed down hard on the inside of her cheek, stopping herself from offering some witty or sarcastic response.

"And then when I went to see him, he practically confirmed it. I was almost insulted that you'd stoop to fuck a man like him and not a man like me. Really, there's no contest, is there?" he said, looking to her as she glanced to the ceiling for a moment and did her best not to bite back. "And I knew that you would always be his…Helmut's whore…so desperate to be loved, but the only man who could love you is locked up in a cell and you can't even move on with anyone else."

Andrew stopped his pacing and stood still, folding his arms in front of her. "And so here we are. I followed your movements when you left Berlin and found out that a private jet had left the airport for Madripoor…and when I asked a friend of mine to look into it, he said that it was Baron Zemo's plane. I've never been to Madripoor before, but I know there are low lives everywhere. You fight right in."

"Thanks," Amelia said, unable to hold her sarcasm as she heard him. She was getting tired with the conversation, but she knew there was nothing that she could do. She watched Andrew's lips arch into a sinister smile and he continued talking.

"And I knew there was a hierarchy. William had told me about this place plenty of times. He never wanted me to be involved with HYDRA…not really…he was always trying to protect me and I was happy to have a normal life in Australia," Andrew continued explaining to her. "I found a woman named Selby thanks to some networking. She told me all about you…going to her…I had to pay, of course. She seemed slightly annoyed because you hadn't come to her and paid her yet."

"Trust me, I was on my way," Amelia said.

"Oh, I know," Andrew chuckled. "She was persuaded to tell me what she knew when I gave her a better offer. She told me all about your plan to hire a hitman to kill me…stop me from getting you…and then she told me that she knew where you were staying. It was all too easy."

"So what now?" Amelia questioned, voice haughty. She held her head high, chin jutting out in defiance. She wasn't going to let him see that she was terrified of what he could do to her.

"Now?" Andrew questioned, echoing back to her. "Well, I have so much that I want to do to you, Amelia…make you pay for what you did to my brother…make you cry and beg me for your life. I made a promise not to go easy on you on William's grave. And then I made another promise to your beloved Baron. I told him that I'd go back and tell him everything I did to you…make him listen…because he knows that he can't help you. I think it almost killed him inside."

"Because, unlike you, he still has a conscience."

Andrew laughed at that, head thrown back. "You think that he has a conscience?" he demanded from her. "After what he did? You really are blinded by him."

"I'd rather be blinded by him than feel anything for you," she spat at him. "So just kill me. Get it over with."

Shaking his head, he advanced towards her. Moving his hand to her chin, he grabbed it roughly in his fingers and pushed her until her back hit the wall. She tried to bring her knee up to push him away, but she couldn't. His own leg sat in between both of hers, not letting her go anywhere.

"Didn't you hear anything I just said to you?" he questioned, face inches from her, his chest brushing against hers. "No, this isn't going to be easy. This isn't going to be quick and painless…this is going to be drawn out…painful…you'll be begging me to kill you by the time this is over."

"I'll never beg you for anything," she retorted.

"No?" he questioned and his free hand moved along her cheek, his fingers stroking along her cheekbone and then down her neck. She froze, stiffening up as his fingers moved over the swell of her breast and over her stomach to the waistband of her skirt. He toyed with it languidly and Amelia wanted to retch as his fingers slipped under it and she tried to push him off of her, but he held her firmly. His fingers moved against her slowly and he moved his mouth to her ear, breathing heavily against it as he spoke.

"You see, I think there are certain things that scare you," he whispered to her and she tried not to feel shame at how her body responded to him touching her so intimately. "I think you're scared of so much…being alone…no one to love you…but this…I think you'd beg me not to do this to you. So beg me, Amelia…beg me and I might consider being a gentleman."

"Don't," Amelia pleaded with him, her hips moving gently against his hand. "Just stop it."

"That's not nearly good enough," he said to her and Amelia shook her head, tears now falling down her cheeks.

"Please," she said, feeling a range of emotions. Fear. Shame. Sorrow. Defeat. She didn't know how to cope with them all. And then she remembered Helmut's training. She remembered what he had told her. Only she could save herself and fight for herself. And that was true now. Besides, she suspected Andrew had no intention of sparing her humiliation.

And so she moved her head so that she could do some damage. She managed to bite down on his ear. Clamping her teeth on its lobe, she refused to let go as he screamed in pain at the feeling. He tried to push her from him, his hands now grabbing at her shoulders. But Amelia was strong and she wasn't going to stop fighting. She chewed down hard, her teeth not letting up as he continued yelling at her and she pulled on the lobe.

His screams echoed through the room as she bit off a part of his ear. Blood pooled around her mouth and she spat out the flesh to the ground. Andrew moved his hand to his injured ear, still whimpering in pain as Amelia spat once more, clearing her mouth of blood. It dripped down her chin and onto her chest, but she failed to care.

"You stupid bitch!" he yelled at her, voice rising an octave higher with the pain as well.

"Never touch me again," Amelia demanded from him.

His fingers were covered in blood from where he had moved them to his ear. Glaring at her, he pointed at her with his free hand. "You're going to regret that, Amelia," he snapped and turned on his heel to leave and deal with his emergency. "I swear that you're going to regret that."

She said nothing as he went, knowing that he might have a point. She was certainly going to regret it if she couldn't get out of the basement.

Bucky wondered if he was just chasing ghosts, but he felt that there was something wrong. He could almost feel it in his gut that there was something wrong. Amelia had gone missing and he had no idea where she had gone or what had happened to her. He was trying his best not to think the worst, but the main point was that he couldn't help but think the worst. After everything he had been through, he wasn't entirely optimistic.

Amelia's room had been trashed. He had been told that there was someone coming for her. He could put two and two together. He had wandered around the room, looking for any sign of who the man might have been who took her. Her bag was discarded on the floor, the contents of it spilling out onto the plush carpet. Crouching down, he picked up a cell phone and unlocked it. There was no lock on it because it was one of those old phones that had no passcode.

There was only one number in its phone book. He pressed down onto the number and heard the dialling tone before placing the phone against his ear. It rang four times before a man answered, his accent clear and Bucky suspected he was also quite old from the way he spoke.

"Hello, Ms Baker. How can I help you?"

He froze for a moment before composing himself. "This isn't Amelia," Bucky declared.

There was a shuffling on the other end of the line and Bucky realised that one sentence on its own probably sounded slightly sinister.

"My name's James…Bucky," he said. "I was supposed to meet Amelia tonight, but she didn't show. I know that she's in trouble and that's why she's in Madripoor. I think that something bad has happened to her."

"And who are you to Amelia?"

"Me? Absolutely no one," Bucky responded. "I just came for answers after what Zemo did to me in Siberia…I'm…I'm him…The Winter Soldier…but I'm not him anymore. I'm trying to make amends and right the wrongs of my past, hence why I found Amelia here."

"I'm sorry," the man said quickly. "But I can't tell you anything. I can't trust you."

Bucky began fretting that he was about to hang up on him and so he spoke quickly. "She gave me her engagement ring," he said. "She gave me it after I was worried she wouldn't meet me tonight…told me to keep it as a guarantee that she would come because she would want it back. She said she never takes it off. It's a green stone on a silver band…pretty big too…not the kind of thing you'd want to lose."

Silence once more and Bucky suspected the man would be weighing up whether or not he could trust the man he was speaking to.

"I'm not here to hurt her," Bucky emphasised. "I'm here to help her, but I need to know who would come after her."

"And she gave you her ring?" he questioned once more.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, I have it here," he said to him. "I came to find her in this swanky hotel, but she wasn't here. She's gone and I don't know where."

"She…Andrew Edgington," the man finally relented. "He's coming after her because of what she did to his brother. He wants revenge. She went to Selby and asked for a favour to stop him, but clearly it hadn't worked."

"Edgington," Bucky said. "His brother was a HYDRA scientist."

"Yes."

"What is she doing involving herself with them?"

"That is not my place to say," the man responded. "But if she is in trouble then I will be coming to Madripoor."

"I'll see what I can do," Bucky retorted.

"And if I find that you have lied to me then I will not be held responsible for my master's actions."

He hung up the call and the line went dead. Bucky looked at the blank screen and deposited the phone into his pocket, wondering just who his master could be. But then he slowly began to piece it together. Leaving the hotel suite, there was only one man he could think of who would be so upset at Amelia getting hurt. And he was locked in some German jail cell.

Amelia couldn't stop crying. She had been sick, violently ill on the floor. She could hear Andrew behind her, playing the video on his phone back to himself. She could hear herself crying in the video, sobbing loudly and begging for him to get away from her. She could hear him telling her to look at the camera and show him her tears. He told her to continue crying.

"You know, you're lucky I'm not a man who enjoys sharing or I'd let my bodyguards down here," Andrew said to her and Amelia looked down to the ground as he watched her. He was almost on the edge of breaking her. He knew it wouldn't take much longer. "I mean, I could just show them this video instead. I'm sure they'd enjoy it…I'm sure your Baron certainly will…"

"No," Amelia grunted out, shaking her head back and forth.

"It's funny," Andrew drawled. "You're trapped in here and still thinking about him…his feelings…emotions…and none of it matters, Amelia…because you'll be dead by the time he sees this and what I did to you."

"You're as sick as your brother," Amelia spat to the ground, saliva pooling in her mouth as she tried not to look down at where her skirt remained bunched up around her hips, her tights ripped and her blouse now untucked.

"Don't even mention him, you filthy whore," Andrew snapped at her, placing his phone back into his pocket and moving to the corner of the room. Amelia followed his gaze and she saw him pick up a long, thin stick of wood.

Her eyes widened as he moved towards her with the stick that was almost similar to some type of cane. She shook her head as he held it in front of him, using the end of it to tip her chin upwards so that her gaze met his. Moving it down her throat, he trailed it down her side to her thigh before hitting her hard. She screamed out loud in pain, feeling the blood rush to the surface of her skin. She looked down and saw the blood pooling at the split skin and Andrew looked at it too.

"I told you," he drawled, "that I'd have you begging for death."

"Andrew, please," Amelia begged him. "Please…don't…"

"Oh, you beg so sweetly," he said and gripped hold of her throat with his free hand. "But I'm afraid your pleas fall on death ears, my dear," he whispered and moved to kiss her on the neck once before forcing her to turn around so that she was facing the wall.

"Scream as loud as you want," he said, running the wood down the length of her spine. "No one can hear you in here but me and I'd quite like to listen to your yells."

Amelia grunted back a sob as he stepped back and she prepared herself for the first blow, fear taking hold of her for good this time.

Bucky had chased around Madripoor like a man on a mission. He had tracked down Selby, but she had said nothing to him, telling him that she only had information if he was willing to pay for it. The main issue was that Bucky had limited money and certainly no money in the region of what Selby was after. But, somehow, luck had been on his side.

He was leaving the bar when he heard a man mention Amelia's name. He worked behind the bar and looked almost apprehensive about telling Bucky what he knew. But he said that the men who had come for her had been boasting about what they would do when they found her. It seemed like the bartender had some kind of heart and pointed out a bodyguard of Edgington's.

Bucky had dragged him into the alley behind the bar on false pretences that he knew of someone who would be interested in spending the night with him. But then he had pinned him against the wall, telling him who he was. He had used the fact that he was the Winter Soldier to his advantage, but it had worked. The man hadn't even hesitated before giving away Amelia's location.

Standing outside of the warehouse on the edge of the docks, Bucky looked at it. It was abandoned, that much was obvious. He checked that he had his gun in his jeans waistband and pulled it out. Holding it in his hand, he moved into the warehouse through a side entrance and pressed himself up against the wall to remain hidden. He moved along the brick surface, hearing murmuring from the back of the warehouse. There was, what looked like, a control room there. A man was sat there and talking on the phone, a gun on the table in front of him.

Bucky easily snuck up on him and knocked him out cold against the desk before seeing a door on the other wall. It was slightly ajar. Moving to it, he saw that it led down another corridor with other doors off of it. Bucky tried to handles of each of them, but none of them opened until he came to the one furthest away. Turning on the doorknob, he saw there was a staircase directly in front of him. Moving down the wooden steps, he could hear a loud cry and he moved even quicker.

Coming to the basement, he turned to see Amelia chained to the ceiling, her arms dangling above her head and a man in front of her, his hands shifting across her body and Bucky instantly snapped. He could smell vomit in the room, the smell of it wafting from next to where Amelia stood and he saw that she was ghastly pale.

"Get off of her!" he demanded.

The man froze, moving his hands from her body and holding them up in the air. Turning to face Bucky, a smile was on his face as Amelia looked to him, wanting to cry in relief at the sight of him. Bucky moved closer to her as the man stepped away, focused on the gun raised in his direction.

"It's you, isn't it?" he asked. "The Winter Soldier?"

"None of your business," Bucky snapped. "Now get on the floor and stay where I can see you."

"And you've come for her?" he checked as Bucky began searching him and he found a gun in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, not answering the question. He pulled it out and tossed it across the floor so that he couldn't get to it. Bucky kept his gun trained on him.

"Where are the keys to the cuffs?" Bucky demanded from him.

He pulled them out without hesitating.

"You know, I heard that you'd been pardoned by the President," he continued talking and Bucky suspected that he was Andrew Edgington, the very same man he had heard about only hours before. "They say that you're not him anymore…that you're a reformed man…so I guess that means you won't kill me."

"I wouldn't waste a bullet on someone like you," Bucky said, snatching the keys from his hands and moving to Amelia, not once taking his eye off of Andrew. He reached up, gun still in his hand, and managed to unlock the handcuffs. Amelia almost collapsed in relief, but Bucky moved an arm out to grab hold of her.

But she shouted in pain and his arm instantly retracted. It was then when he saw them. The cuts on her back were deep, the skin torn apart and blood pooling at the surface. They ran along the length of her back, her shirt ripped apart and specks of the cotton material clinging to her wounds. Bucky almost felt sick at the sight. She held onto the wall to stop herself from falling over, feeling dizzy and tired, her limbs protesting at being forced to stand on her own accord now.

"And if you won't kill me then you know that I'll get out of here. Madripoor isn't known for its law enforcement…and once I'm out of here…then it's only a matter of time before I come back for you, Amelia," Andrew said to her. "You think that you can run away from me forever? You're not going anywhere…and our fun will continue."

Bucky shook his head and stepped closer to Andrew, blocking him from looking at Amelia. He pressed his gun to the side of his head and a part of him longed to pull the trigger. This man was dangerous. He wasn't a good man.

"Shut up," Bucky demanded from him.

"She knows I'm right," Andrew continued talking.

"Leave her alone or you'll have me to deal with and my patience only stretches so far."

But before Andrew could respond, the sound of a gunshot echoed through the basement. Bucky jumped back, his own gun in his hands and the trigger unpulled. But then he looked to the side and saw Amelia. She had picked up the gun he had taken from Andrew and had used it to shoot him straight through the head. The bullet hole was clear on his forehead and a shocked expression was frozen on Andrew's face as he fell to the ground.

"Jesus Christ," Bucky whispered and Amelia felt him take the gun from her. He placed it into the waistband of his jeans as she sank to her knees and moved into the pocket of his suit jacket. "What are you doing, Amelia?" he demanded to know from her.

"His phone…I need it," she said.

She pulled the device out and clutched it to her chest, sighing almost in relief and Bucky wondered just why she needed it. She placed it in the waistband of her skirt. She tried to move to her feet again, but she was unsteady, swaying back and forth. Bucky moved towards her, but he was too scared to grab hold of her at the sight of the wounds on her back. He didn't want to agitate them, but he knew he had to get her out of the warehouse.

"We need to go," Bucky said to her.

"Yeah," she agreed weakly with him and stumbled forwards, but instantly fell over, still too weak to move. Bucky sighed and knelt down in front of her as he saw her eyes close for a moment and she looked like she was on the verge of passing out. He managed to reach for her, an arm going just around her shoulders and trying not to touch the wounds. He moved his other arm underneath her knees and picked her up as though she weighed nothing.

Carrying her through the basement and up the stairs, he saw that she had, in fact, passed out. She was unconscious in his arms and he wasn't surprised. She had been through a lot of pain, clearly. Bucky handled her delicately, wondering just what had happened to her.

Amelia was groggy when she came around. She was laid on something soft. She was settled on her front, cheek pressed into the pillow. She opened her eyes slowly and tried to sit up, but a hand was on her shoulder in an instant.

"You can't move yet," a man said and he soon appeared in her eyeline.

It was Bucky. He was wearing a grey short sleeved top with dark jeans. His hair was messy on top of his head and Amelia noted a chair next to the bed she was laid in that had a pillow sat in it. Had he been there the entire time?

"Where am I?" Amelia asked.

"I managed to get a doctor to come here…no questions asked…it's my hotel room," Bucky explained to her. "You've been unconscious for over five hours. The doctor gave you some pretty strong painkillers."

Amelia nodded, suddenly feeling a throbbing pain in her back. Bucky watched as she tried to turn her head over her shoulder. She couldn't see much, but she looked down and saw bandages wrapped around her midriff tightly. And then she remembered what Andrew had done to her. It all came back to her and she realised it hadn't been a nightmare.

"He said that you need to keep them bandaged until they healed…he cleaned them for you…gave you some fresh bandages and cream to apply," Bucky informed her. "But you can't lay on your back until it's healed. You need to avoid putting pressure on them. He couldn't see any broken bones or anything else."

Amelia nodded, her cheek falling back against the pillow, her hair brushed over her shoulder and onto the other side of her body.

"You came for me," Amelia said to him. "How?"

"A lot of tracking people," Bucky confessed, sitting down on the chair once more.

His room looked quite small, but the bed was comfortable and Amelia could see that the curtains were closed, the lamp above the bedside table turned on and giving the cream-coloured walls a soft glow.

"I called this man from your phone that I found in your room," Bucky explained. "He sounded Sokovian-"

"-Oeznik," Amelia interrupted him.

"Anyway, he didn't believe who I was until I told him that you'd given me your engagement ring, which is there, by the way," Bucky said, motioning to the bedside table and Amelia saw the familiar band. "He told me you had gone to Selby because you were in trouble with a man called Andrew Edgington…she gave me nothing, but the bartender told me about Edgington. I found one of his bodyguards who squealed and gave me your location."

"And you came for me?" Amelia questioned. "Why?"

"Because you were in trouble and I wasn't going to sit back and let you get hurt, even if you claim you're not a good person," he informed her and Amelia did her best not to think of what might have happened if he didn't come for her.

"Thank you," she said to him.

Bucky watched her close her eyes and his mouth dried out for a moment. He wasn't used to people thanking him. He was used to them cursing him and despising him. This was an entirely new thing for him.

"You're welcome," he said back to her.

And then her eyes widened in horror as she remembered something. "His phone," Amelia said. "Where is it?"

"It's here," Bucky said, holding it up in his hands. He had kept it in his own pocket. "I kept it safe because the doctor had to take your skirt and tights off…he said…he found bruises on your thighs…he…"

"I know," Amelia assured him. "I just…I need that phone to be destroyed."

"Why?" he asked from her and he saw tears form in her eyes.

"Barnes, please," she said and he could hear the pleading in her voice as he slowly realised what she was saying to him. There was something bad on there. There was something that she didn't want anyone to see. "He filmed everything…he filmed what he did to me…"

"Jesus," Bucky whispered, his stomach churning at the mere thought of a man doing that to a woman. He didn't want to think about it. He moved the phone to his vibranium hand and clenched his fingers into a fist tightly. He destroyed the phone instantly, feeling it crush into small pieces and Amelia sighed.

"Thank you," she said to him once again.

"He…I'm sorry…what he did…I wish I could have gotten there sooner."

"It's not your fault," Amelia told him with a shake of her head. "You got to me before he could hurt me and I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you for that."

"You don't need to repay me," Bucky said, placing the pieces of phone on the bedside table and knowing that he would have to dispose of it safely. "Just rest here for the time being. I've told Oeznik where you are and he said that he would come…take you back home whenever you're up to it."

"Did he mention Helmut?" Amelia wondered and Bucky's brows knitted together. He shook his head. "I should call him…I owe him that much."

"Do you?"

"Please," Amelia said to him. "I don't expect you to understand, but he…we…just let me do this."

Bucky sighed, but nodded his head. He reached for her phone that he had laid out on the dressing table. Her suitcase was there too alongside her satchel. He had asked for them to be collected from her hotel room while she had been knocked out after the doctor was finished with her. He handed her the phone and watched her search for the only number there. He gave her some privacy and went to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he thought about Amelia and what had happened to her.

Grasping hold of the edge of the sink, he bowed his head once more, droplets falling from his chin. He had intended on returning to the States the following day. He didn't expect to spend so much time with Amelia, but he was where he was. He only knew that he would have to cancel his flight. He didn't see himself going anywhere anytime soon.

"Amelia."

He gasped her name and it sounded so familiar when he spoke it out loud. Sitting in his cell, he had been informed there was a call for him and he had taken it. He knew that the guards would be listening in, but he just needed to hear her voice and to hear that she was safe.

"It's me," Amelia said to him and the line was slightly crackly as she spoke. "I'm fine, Helmut…James…we broke up."

Helmut knew she was talking to him in code. She could hardly admit to killing him on the line. But he wanted to know what had happened. He needed to know. He was hesitant for a few seconds, trying to think of what to say.

"Did you do it yourself?" he questioned.

"Yeah," she replied. She had killed him herself. "But I'm fine now…I'm…I'm going to go home and just rest, I think."

"Is Oeznik taking you?"

"Yes, he is," Amelia replied and he heard her sniff. Was she crying? Helmut gripped the phone even tighter, feeling a swell of fear rise up inside of him.

"Are you hurt?" he asked her.

"No," she said quickly. She said it almost too quickly. "I'm fine, Helmut. Honestly, I'm fine."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise," she said to him. "Listen, I need to go, okay? I've got to pack…I just…I just wanted you to know that James has gone and I'm alright."

Helmut inhaled a sharp breath. It felt like there was something she was hiding from him. She didn't sound fine. She sounded deflated. She sounded nothing like her usual self. It was like she was detached from something. He took a moment to nod his head, knowing that he wasn't going to get anything from her.

"We'll talk soon, won't we?" he checked with her.

"Yes, of course," she replied. "Goodbye, Helmut."

Abrupt. "Yes…goodbye…and take care, Amelia," he said and she hung up.

Helmut did the same and he knew that there was something most certainly wrong. Something had happened to her that she was keeping from him. But the problem with being trapped in a cell was that your mind ran away with you. And Helmut's most certainly was doing that.

….

A/N: Would love to know what you think! Was a difficult chapter to write. More coming soon, hopefully!