A/N In this chapter, there are a few references to footsteps. They're the feet of many different people and during different times in the story they signify different things. This chapter is sort of the introduction of a new path for Carter and just where she may be headed next in this AU. Enjoy.

Disclaimer - I own nothing you see here.

"No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path." - Gautama Buddha, Sayings Of Buddha

DAY 1

The lights were turned off and Carter shivered, violently.

The heat that seemed to seep into her pores was suddenly gone. She put her palms to her face, and her skin was cold to the touch, clammy. There was a loud thumping in her ears, and through the dizzy muddle that had overtaken her, she realized it was her own head. She had a blinding headache. It was so painful; expelling breath through her nostrils seemed a difficult task. She willed herself to slow her breathing down; her heart was pounding as if it was trying to escape her chest.

She heard footsteps, heavy and rapid. Their sound was amplified, making the pounding in her head progressively worse the closer they got. She remained crouched in the corner as they stopped just in front of her cell.

A question broke the silence and she struggled to understand it. All the words, the sounds of her breathing, and a distant hum, melded into one. Yet he repeated it over and over, until finally she was able to make it out.

"Carter…" she whispered her own name - quietly - as if to clear the disorientation she felt, just enough to comprehend the question she was being asked.

"Who sent you to kill David Reznick?"

The last thing she heard before she passed out was the sound of steel scraping against steel as the door to her cell screeched opened.

48 HOURS AGO

Carter woke in the middle of the night feeling an unfamiliar weight on her bare midriff. Her sleep had been deep, and through heavy eyelids she stared at the source of the burden and saw a man's arm. It took her a few seconds to remember what had happened just a few hours earlier. A bottle of scotch, John's disarming smile, and his head and talented tongue between her legs. It was dark, she couldn't see her own face, but as her hand flew to her cheek she knew she was blushing. It had been a long time. Months of being out of the country on missions with her platoon, and training exercises after accepting Snow's offer had left little time for any form of physical interaction with another person. At least none that didn't involve hand to hand combat. She had needed this. They both had.

John was dead to the world now. His steady, even breathing told her that his sleep was just as deep as hers had been a while ago.

During training she'd wondered more and more about him; who he was and what made him tick. His instruction was hard, almost brutal at times, but she liked it. It matched the way he moved inside her tonight, with precision, skill and determination to successfully supply every nerve ending in her body with pleasure and ecstasy.

She shifted under his arm and he rolled over onto his back. She threw the covers off of them, and in the thin sliver of light that came from the bedroom window, she saw tiny goose bumps form on his bare arms. There was a slight chill in the air. Her curious eyes ran over the muscles of his chest, the indentation in his shoulders, and the scar a few inches below his right shoulder. She wondered where and how he got it. She stared at his naked manhood as it lay heavily against his thigh.

Damned if it wasn't already semi hard, she thought as a smile crossed her lips.

She ran a finger over it and watched him twitch a bit, though he didn't wake up or move otherwise. It came alive under her tongue and in the damp space of her mouth she felt him pulse. As she licked at him, she felt the warmth of his pre-cum start to ooze and she heard a faint groan leave John's mouth.

He - along with his now fully hardened member - was awake. She felt his hand at the back of her neck, his fingers running through her hair and was satisfied with the strangled sounds he was making. After a while of her tongue twisted around his pulsating flesh, after he'd groaned and his fingers had bored into her skin, he was wet and dripping and she'd worked him into a heated frenzy. Her hands found a condom in the dark and she straddled him, torturing him while she unhurriedly fitted the latex over his cock.

His hands impatiently grabbed at her wrists to pull her closer and she lowered herself, achingly slowly over him, till she'd taken him all to the hilt.

"Ahhh…." The sound from his mouth was deep as she grounded onto him.

She could feel him pushing up to meet her movements, eager to immerse his hardness into the soft muscles inside her. She put a hand on his chest to still him as she took her time.

"Slow down, baby," she said. "I'm not going anywhere."

Yes, she thought, as she closed her eyes and threw her head backwards. They had both needed this.

DAY 2

The water that hit her in the face was cold and biting, and had done the job of startling her awake. There was a weird taste on her tongue and in her throat. They'd given her something, but she couldn't figure out just what.

There was a bright spot light pointed directly at her face, a beacon in the otherwise dark room. She was seated in a hard wooden chair and longed to rub at her eyes. Her hands were bound however, as were her legs to the seat that supported her. The confused daze she'd felt had faded somewhat and she made out a pair of feet standing in front of her. The light in her eyes prevented her from seeing the person's face, but she noticed there were leads on her chest connected to wires that led to the further edges of the room. Another person was seated behind a desk, quiet, waiting.

"Who sent you to kill David Reznick?"

The question from earlier was repeated. She didn't answer and lowered her head to her chest.

"Who sent you to kill David Reznick?"

She remained silent, wondering who could have known about the mission.

Her interrogator walked a few inches closer, and she mustered every measure of strength she had left, knowing what was to come.

The volts of electricity that shot through her body caused her to jerk and twist. She grit her teeth tightly together, trying to avoid biting down on her tongue. She felt her muscles contract and tighten while she clenched her fists.

Her interrogator waved his hand and she breathed heavily as it subsided.

"You had information on Reznick's whereabouts, his family, his meeting with Pietr Vladik. Where did you get it? Who are you working for? Tell me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she answered, looking up into the shadows.

The movement was quick, and his arm shot out towards her. The grip on her throat was tight. She couldn't move, she could barely breathe.

"Who are you working for?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." The words came out as a strangled wheeze.

High voltage replaced the grip around her wind pipe as he signaled the man at the desk once more. On and on it went for how long she wasn't able to tell. She squirmed against the pain, against the ropes that held her still. There was nothing she could do but ride out wave after wave of the strong current as it wracked her body.

When shock therapy proved fruitless, two men came into the room and took turns delivering blows to her abdomen, her jaw, and anyplace else their fist happened to land. She coughed, she choked, and she grunted and moaned, wishing she could lose consciousness. At least that would be a short reprieve against the torture.

But the question of who sent her to kill David Reznick, remained unanswered.

36 HOURS AGO

Carter stood at the kitchen counter. The smell of coffee filled the air and she listened as footsteps moved over the carpeted flooring of the living room and came closer to her. She swallowed some of her coffee and set the mug down on the counter. She didn't turn around, nor did she speak as she felt John's hand reach around her middle and planted a quick kiss on her shoulder. The stubble on his face tickled her neck, and she squirmed, letting out a tiny laugh.

Eventually she did turn around, and the mood in the air changed just as quickly. She noticed the look on his face, the usual intensity had returned. Gone was the man who'd been so playful and passionate with her not only the night before, but during the wee hours of this very morning. It was definitely 'the morning after'.

"I hope I haven't disappointed you by not having a whole spread of breakfast ready. I can only offer you coffee," she said, tilting her head toward the coffee maker. "I normally eat closer to noon most of the time."

"Fair enough," he said quietly and poured himself a cup.

He was already dressed; she'd heard the shower in her bathroom a while ago. He was ready to start the day. She too, had already showered and changed. Her hair was caught up in a neat bun and she was bright eyed.

"What's on the agenda today?" she asked him.

"You have a briefing with Snow. He'll go over the details of the mission...and…I forgot to give you this…"

His eyes immediately darkened as he fished a thumb drive out of his back pocket and pressed it into her hand.

"…your contacts in the area, weapons you'll need, money. It's all there."

"John, there's no regrets about last night. There's no reason things have to be awkward. We're both adults. We can handle this little….development can't we?"

Despite his attempts to maintain his icy expression, she caught the hint of a smile before he released it into his coffee mug and took a drink.

"A development? That's what we're calling this?"

Carter shrugged as she took the thumb drive from him and spun it between her fingers.

"Well…whatever this is, whatever it turns out to be, let's just trust each other enough to not let it interfere with our work. Okay? Partner?"

She realized it was the first time she'd said the word out loud. He didn't miss it either, but it was true. They were partners, and they both needed to trust each other if any of this was going to work.

"I think I like the sound of that," he said before kissing the side of her mouth. "Partner."

"Good. Now let's take a look at what's on this drive."

Snow's instructions were clear, precise. What he'd asked for was quite doable. Ordinarily it was a mission that could've been carried out by less than half of her platoon if it had been one of their directives. She knew she could do this.

She didn't question why Snow wanted her to go alone, but later he explained anyway. He needed to see how she performed on her own. She'd been the leader of a team, and now she'd been paired with Reese. From time to time there were things she'd be required to do solo.

She didn't mind the test. She'd aced every previous one since she got to Williamsburg. Truthfully, she wanted more of a challenge, and a break from the routine of tests and training she'd had to undergo. This was a chance for her to prove herself yet again.

She familiarized herself with David Reznick and those he travelled with in the small window of time she had before her departure. Her contact was Nicholas Newman, an agent that ran a safe house in Ukraine and had been stationed there for a while. He was only charged with smuggling her in, providing weaponry, and getting her as close to Reznick as possible. She was responsible for getting herself out.

"You look nervous," Carter said as she turned to Reese. "You shouldn't be. I've done this a thousand times."

The breeze from the blades of the Sikorsky muted her words to him. He reached out to grasp her forearm and she held onto his as he looked down at her.

"Good luck, Carter."

"Thanks."

She boarded the helicopter under the cover of night and she was on her way.

Her mission, although well thought out and well planned, was short lived. No sooner had she arrived at the Ukraine Poland border, she'd been ambushed. Newman was nowhere to be found and she'd been shot in the neck with a tranquilizer.

Someone had expected her.

DAY 3

Reese felt restless and uneasy. He'd just disassembled his pistol with intentions of cleaning it, with intentions of doing anything to pass the time. The bore brush was in his left hand, and had been for the last fifteen minutes, but his mind was elsewhere. As much as he pretended not to be worried, he was just the opposite.

He put the brush down and picked up one of the bullets from the table top to idly twirl it between his fingers. The door to the room opened and Mark Snow walked in.

"Any word yet from Carter?" he asked.

"No."

Snow nodded his head, noting Reese's expression. "Don't look so worried, John. We handpicked her remember? She can handle this."

DAY 4

Her arms were sore. She'd been dangling from the ceiling with rope tied around her wrists for quite a while now. They'd stripped her down to her underwear and she had just endured being hosed with water by two nameless, faceless people. In between, she'd been hit repeatedly about the body with the knotted ends of thick nautical rope. The edges were coarse and hard, and had done their share of damage to her skin. Her body had suffered a lot. She was trying her best to keep her mind and her emotions intact.

She thought about crying, thought about screaming, but what good would it do? It wouldn't ease the pain, it wouldn't get her out of here, and she didn't want to give them - whoever they were - the satisfaction those responses would bring. She would grunt, she would steel her jaw and endure it, but she'd never let them think they'd broken her.

She felt like she was floating, but really she was being lowered to the ground. Her legs hit the ground, and then soon she was on her knees. The ropes were cut, and when her arms fell to her sides they felt like jelly. She fell over and onto her side. Her body felt like paper that had been scraped too hard with an eraser. She felt raw and used up. The ground beneath her was cold. Her eyes travelled to the open door to her far left. From what little she could see, there was just one more door that led to the exit. Something shiny was on the ground. As the door closed behind her captors, she crawled toward it. It was a razor. They'd been sloppy enough to leave it behind. Finding it had brought the first smile to her lips since she'd been brought here. She picked it up off the ground and held it close to her chest.

Maybe she could make a run for it.

"It's been four days."

"I'm aware of that."

"We've used the rope, halogen lights, the hose….shock therapy…."

"Maybe you're not trying hard enough."

"The shock therapy almost sent her into cardiac arrest. She won't talk. I don't think anything will get her to break at this point. It's time to end the interrogation."

"I agree. Once you tell her we have her partner, she'll sing like the pretty little bird she is."

With her ear to the ground, Carter could hear the sound of footsteps approaching. She also heard footsteps heading in the opposite direction. She heard a car, the sound of tires on asphalt and soon a creak as the door to the room opened.

"We have your partner."

She pretended not to hear, and didn't respond. She knew it had to be a lie. John wasn't here; he was back in Williamsburg where she left him. They had to be talking about Newman, and he didn't matter to her.

"I don't have a partner; I don't know what you're talking about," she whispered in a broken voice.

She pretended to cry then, raising her hands to her head. "Please….please let me go."

"You can go, and so can John, as soon as you tell me who sent you to kill David Reznick."

How would they know about John? How would they know who she was?

"I don't know any John, I don't know David Reznick….I don't know who you're talking about."

She crawled closer and closer till she was at his feet. She held onto his foot, keeping up the charade of uncontrollable tears, and as he bent down to grab hold of her, she quickly reached up to drag the razor across the side of his face. The cut was deep, and blood flowed freely from the wound. She rose to her feet, twisting his arm around his back when he tried to reach for the pistol at his side.

She grabbed it and held it to his temple.

"Okay. Now you're gonna help me get out of here." She led him toward the door, keeping the barrel to his head. "How many others are here with you?" She asked.

He didn't have to answer as two men met them both in the hallway. Without thinking, Carter fired at them both, hitting one in the chest, and the other in the neck.

"Keep moving!" she yelled at him, and they encountered another man just before the exit.

She was so close, she thought. She was almost there. Her heartbeat was pumping fast. Her breath was heavy. Her body was screaming to rest, but she knew if she stopped now, if she gave in to the fatigue and the pain that was threatening to pull her down, she'd never get another chance to escape.

"Let me explain!" he screamed, and raised his arms in the air. "Carter let me explain!"

"No explanation needed," she answered, and fired at him.

Her human shield had lost a lot of blood, so much he was shaking like a leaf in her arms. She pushed him out the door, looking around frantically for a vehicle, anything to get her out of the area, but she was surrounded.

She couldn't get out, and as her interrogator slid to the ground she put a bullet in his back. She heard screaming, orders for her to drop her gun, but she didn't intend to let them take her again. She raised her hands, looking at the armed men as they advanced towards her, and prepared to put a bullet through her throat.

"Do not kill her! Do not kill her! Do you hear me? Do not kill her!"

The voice she heard was familiar, and she looked around. The movement of her head caused the dizziness to return. She felt a blow to the back of her shoulder blade and she dropped to her knees as a heavy warmth coursed rapidly through her veins.

She rolled onto her back, arms flailing, her heart rate slowing down significantly. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

She looked up as someone came to stand over her.

"Good work, Carter." The unmistakable smile, the expression of a man you weren't sure if you should trust or kill.

She uttered one word. "Snow?"