Over the next few days as Elizabeth healed and was ultimately discharged (with a healthy amount of pain medicine) she slept little. Every night she would fall asleep and he would be there, with that knife, some nights she gave in and told him everything she knew, other nights he cut her to ribbons and she woke up screaming.

"When was the last time you slept?" Dean asked a week afterwards. Elizabeth had been working on a simple code and completely messed it up. She tried to brush it off but he stopped her.

"When did you last sleep?" He asked again. Elizabeth felt tears fill her eyes before she could stop herself.

"Every time I close my eyes, and he's there." She choked out. Dean put an arm around her and she buried her face in his chest, the smell of leather, gun smoke, and the spicy aftershave he used comforting her and anchoring her.

"You can talk to me." Dean said, "Please tell me."

"Did he ever do anything like that to you?" Elizabeth asked, raising her face so she could look at him.

Dean shook his head. "No."

Elizabeth dropped her head down again. She tried to open her mouth, to let the flood of feelings she was keeping at bay to spill out and tell him, tell him everything. But, it wouldn't come. It wasn't lack of trust or not wanting to tell him, it was simply part of her couldn't put into words that she felt he would understand. He didn't know what it was like.

"I can't." Elizabeth said finally and it broke her heart to say it. She couldn't tell him.

"Why not?" Dean asked and Elizabeth knew he was a little hurt.

"You don't know what it's like. You don't know how scared he makes you feel and how you know your life is in his hands and he won't stop until your dead." Elizabeth said her voice rising, she was beginning to feel hysterical.

Dean's eyes softened again.

"I know someone, who understands." He said. "Would you like to speak to her?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment then nodded.

"Okay," Dean said. "I'll call her."

"Can I go home first? I don't want to do it here." Elizabeth said and Dean agreed. They left after lunch and when Dean dropped her off and turned to leave, Elizabeth stopped him.

"I don't want to sleep alone." She said her voice small.

Dean didn't hesitate in following her in. They curled up on her bed, the curtains closed against the crisp autumn that was forming outside, her head on his chest and his arms around her. It was harder to think about Sam when Dean was right there.

"Who am I going to be talking to?" Elizabeth asked as, for the first time in days, she drifted off quietly.

There was a pause and she thought Dean must have gone to sleep, but he finally spoke.

"It's Olivia."

xXx

Dean had left a while before Olivia was due to arrive and Elizabeth waited on the couch. A knock sounded and she opened the door to Olivia who smiled up at her and walked in. She hadn't seen Olivia since the hospital and now with this new found information, things began to piece together. The way her sleeves always covered her arms, though it was less noticeable in the colder weather, the slight tremor of her hands, the way she didn't like to have her back to a door, and the way she had reacted when Elizabeth had spoken of Sam.

There was a moment of silence, awkward since they had been on their way to being steady friends. Olivia looked like she didn't know where to begin. Elizabeth finally said,

"Dean told me, about you being a POW."

Olivia nodded. Her expression was difficult to read, seeming to try and school her face into a mask in order to have control of herself for Elizabeth's sake, the other part of her looked like she could crumble if one more painful memory was dragged from her.

"It was three years ago." She began, "I had just started working for special ops and I met Dean. We became close; he was a good friend to my brother who was serving with me. I was good at what I did, and I was inconspicuous, so I was asked to be part of a mission. I would go North to where my brother was stationed and pass on some information. Someone must have tipped them off, because soon after I arrived, my brother and I were given orders to run, that we had been found out and I almost made it out. I was in the train station, when two soldiers took me into custody."

"You're going to have to come with us." The shorter solider said to Olivia.

"I've got a train to get on." She said backing against the ticket counter. There was no one behind her to help.

"You won't be taking any trains today." He said. "Now come with us." He grabbed her arm.

"Let me go." Olivia began to struggle.

"Stop struggling." The soldier said.

Olivia wasn't listening; she could see her train over their shoulders and knew if she could just get away from them. Pain hit her sharply on the back of her head and her vision swam. The last thing she saw was the wheels of the train turn as it pulled out of the station.

Her vision came in and out of focus, she saw the inside of a car, then a hallway, she was being pulled along by two pairs of strong arms, then a bare cement wall. When she finally did come to someone was yelling at her to get up.

"Stand up!" The soldier barked at her; a young woman, with green eyes and short blonde hair that ended sharply at her ears.

Olivia gripped the edge of the bed and tried to remember how her legs worked. She stood her legs wobbling as she pulled her over to the shower in the corner. Olivia was stripped before she could do anything and pushed under the cold deluge that ran to a small grate in the middle of the room. It was mercifully short, but the shock was enough to cause her to be fully conscious. Her painful embarrassment was noticed and scorned at the woman rolled her eyes and shoved a grey jumpsuit, a pair of underwear, and a tank top into her arms.

"Get dressed." She ordered and Olivia quickly put the thankfully dry clothes on. The soldier shoved her into a chair in the corner of the room and pulled a pair of scissors out of her pocket. Olivia didn't even have time to ask as she began to snip away at the curly hair that had grown to reach her shoulder blades.

Out of everything that had happened, or maybe because of all that had happened, this was what caused her to cry. There was nothing for her to hide behind as the blunt scissors chopped away at hair, lightened by the sun of the south. The cut ended at the base of her neck, leaving an untidy mop on her head that wouldn't become tangled, easier for prison maintenance, if she contracted lice then she would be shaved.

The soldier had been quiet for the entire time but finally she stood back.

"Go to the bed, and don't move." She ordered. Olivia tried her best to wipe away the tears that had spilled but she saw them regardless. She shoved Olivia between the shoulder blades causing her to trip and fall against the bed, banging her knee on the metal frame. A whimper escaped her mouth.

"You're pathetic." She said before opening the door and slamming it behind her.

Olivia eased onto the bed, rubbing her knee. She was visibly shaking, in the course of what must have only been fifteen minutes; she had been humiliated in a multiple ways. Her hand came up to gingerly touch her hair. It was so short and there was the pile of it in the corner, just seeing it made her want to cry again.

"Stop it." She told herself. It wouldn't do her any good to cry. They would see it as a weakness and that meant they would think they could get information out of her more easily. Olivia sat there, rubbing her knee and waiting. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was just supposed to get in, visit her brother and tell him what she knew. He'd take it from there.

The door opened and two men entered the room. One was in a black uniform that somehow managed to look like it was made for him, his black hair in a neat cut, and a middle aged face that looked inclined to sarcasm under bushy black eyebrows. The other was younger and much taller and broader. His face was chiseled into a grim expression, framed with long smooth brown hair that was gathered to the base of his neck in a small pony tail. His green uniform did little to hide the fact that he was dangerous.

"Well hello there." The first man spoke, his voice was clipped and posh. "Miss O'Malley I believe you might have an inkling of where you are and what you are here for."

Olivia nodded, it didn't take a genius.

"Good, shows we won't be wasting our time with you, Colonel Crowley at your service." He said bowing his head mockingly. Olivia's mind recognized the name, taking his face and putting it next to the list of acts of terrorism that had been attributed to him. He smiled at her.

"You have a lot of things in that head of yours, and we want it. Winchester here will be in charge of getting that." He inclined his head backwards to the taller man.

"You are very important to us, so I decided to give you the best we have. I'll leave you two to get acquainted shall I? At ease solider." He saluted the man he called Winchester, who saluted him back as he left the room, leaving the two of them alone. He looked even taller standing by himself.

"Hello. I'm Sam." He said, giving a lopsided smile that was anything but friendly.

Olivia didn't say anything,

"Is someone shy?" He asked mockingly, he moved so he was closer over her.

Crowley has made you a priority, which means I get you all to myself. You will do what I say, answer what I ask, when I want you to. You're mine. You get it?"

Olivia didn't answer; Sam reached forward and grabbed the front of her jumpsuit.

"I said, do you get it?"

Olivia nodded, he could feel her shaking, but as he began to speak again she spit in his face. He looked angry then he laughed.

"You're gonna be fun. I can't wait to get started on you."

"What, what are you going to do?" Olivia asked, her mouth feeling dry.

He smiled, "I guess I can give you sneak peek."

He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a long, jagged blade, more suited for hunting than for carrying around in a pocket. Olivia flinched as it flashed in the light. His smile grew wider and he brought the blade down, not on hers but onto his own bare wrist. Red bloomed, dark and metallic, oozing out and dripping onto the floor. Sam brought his hand up to his lips, and to Olivia's horror, sucked the blood from the cut. He pulled away, his mouth and chin stained red.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Sam smiled, his teeth coated in his blood. With that he turned and left the room. The image of the blood on his teeth and the smile that came with it, turned her stomach. Olivia felt the bile rise in her throat and she got off the bed and hurried to the toilet in the corner, emptying her stomach into it. He had enjoyed it, the taste of his own blood, and the pain he had caused to himself. What pleasure would he get from hurting her? The thought of her own blood in his mouth made her want to throw up again.

Olivia didn't expect to sleep that night, and she didn't. She lay awake listening to the small sounds in the hallway as soldiers walked back and forth. Once she thought she heard a scream that was abruptly cut off. It had all gone wrong. They had promised her nothing would happen, that it was safe. Where was her brother in all this? Did he get out? Would her family be safe? She curled up under the thin blanket and finally allowed herself the luxury of free flowing tears and sobs stifled into her arm.

She must have fallen asleep at some point because she was shaken awake. Groggily she stood, she was ordered to clean her cell and straighten up before being taken to Sam. The piles of hair had now dried on the floor and she swept each pile into her hands, dumping it into a small bucket for trash. The blanket was smoothed over the mattress and that was all. Her hands were handcuffed in front of her and she was pushed out of the door. Two soldiers lead her to the elevator, onto it, and then off of it. They carried on a bored conversation, ignoring her. For how important Crowley said she was, no one was particularly thrilled by her being here.

They reached a room and led her in, seating her in a chair in front of a table, and left. The room was dead silent and Olivia had shaken the last cobwebs of sleep from her mind when Sam entered. His hair was loose today and he wore it longer than hers brushing the collar of his jacket. He took a seat across from her without saying a word. He pulled out a parcel wrapped in wax paper and unwrapped it. It was some sort of muffin, obviously fresh baked and from the smell of it; Olivia was willing to bet it was blueberry. Her stomach growled, she hadn't eaten anything since the morning before. Sam looked up from the muffin and smirked.

"Someone hungry?" He asked, Olivia darted her eyes back to the table.

"I could share it, you know, I know what they're gonna give you and believe me you'll wanna trade."

He pushed the muffin to the other side of the table. Olivia looked at it, then the image of his blood stained teeth flashed before her eyes. She shook her head.

"Suit yourself then." Sam said he pulled it over and ate in silence. Her stomach twisted painfully and she felt light headed.

"I really hope you aren't this quiet when we get down to business." Sam said around a mouthful.

"Doesn't make much sense to talk, you're gonna hurt me no matter what you do. I know you like to torture," Olivia said quietly.

"Now how would you know that?" Sam said leaning forward, he was enjoying himself. "You only just met me."

"What you did last night is a pretty strong hint." "And your brother says so." Her brain added.

Sam smiled and moved his chair back. "Well if that's just a hint for you I guess I'd better show you."

He walked around the room, Olivia followed him with her eyes. He reached the wall and flicked the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. Olivia's eyes tried to adjust, she could see a little red dot in the upper corner of the room, probably a camera, and there was a thin strip of light coming from under the door. She could not see Sam.

Her heightened senses were tense, poised for some stimulus, she heard him moving lightly across the floor, so strange for such a large person. The suspense was killing her which, if she had been in the right mind to reflect on it, would have occurred to her as being part of the process.

A hand ghosted over her neck, feeling like a knife across her tense skin. She flinched away from it. Sam gave a chuckle from somewhere above her head.

"You're a responsive one." He said. Olivia felt the cold blade of a knife on her skin. A small whimper built in her throat as he moved it across her cheek. It moved to the back of her neck and down her spine causing her to flinch forward instinctively. As punishment, he dug the blade in. She felt the hot trickle of her blood slide down her neck. It strung as he pulled the knife away.

"Now look what you did." He sighed. His hand reached around to cup the front of her throat under her chin, making her tilt her head. If the lights had been on she would have been able to look him in the eyes.

"Give me names, we know you worked closely with the special ops division. You know who's a spy here. Give me names and we're done for the day. If you don't, it's gonna get ugly."

"I only know code names." Olivia said desperately. That was a half-truth, there were some, like Dean Winchester, where she knew their full names.

"Tell me." He said.

"No!" Olivia said firmly. Even with the code names, they could still be traced. She held their lives in her hands and she would be damned if they would receive their death sentence from her. If she lied, they would know and she would be killed, it was either the truth or flat out refusal.

It got as ugly as he promised. The lights flicked back on and Sam grabbed the back of her arms forcing her out of the chair. Olivia was pushed down towards the floor. Her handcuffed hands reached out to stop her fall and they scraped across the rough cement. Sam grabbed her collar and turned her around. His legs were on either side of her as he pulled her up towards him.

"One last chance." He said, his green eyes were cold as ice.

"No." Olivia said quietly but just as firmly as before.

His lips disappeared into a thin line and he grabbed either side of the front of her jumpsuit. It tore easily in his fingers. Pushing the fabric aside, he split the seam of her sleeve until her arm was bare. He got down on his knees, one resting on her left arm, the other squeezing her side. He grabbed the chain that held her hands together so that her arm was outstretched above her head on the floor. His other hand pulled the knife back out.

"You need to remember who you're dealing with." He said, his face was inches from hers. She struggled against him, but it useless. She felt the knife go into her forearm, and he began to drag it, cutting the pale skin. Her screams only made him let go of the chain and clamp it over her mouth."

When he finally finished cutting, he removed his knee from her arm and rested back on his heels still straddling her. His eyes were on whatever he had cut into her skin and there was the most soulless smile on his face. Olivia moved her head so she couldn't look at him anymore. The tears caught the cut on her neck, making it sting. His weight shifted and he rose up over her.

"Get out." He said, the look was angry, he hadn't been able to get anything from her. Olivia struggled to get to her feet and tried to fix her jumpsuit so that she could be more covered. He went to the door and gestured, two soldiers came into the room and grabbed her arm.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Olivia." Sam said, towering over her one last time.