Unbind Me: a fic about one character freeing another, or something among the lines

Her mind struggled through the haze of the drug. A tunnel of shadows and distant echoes surrounding her. No way out. Drowning in a peaceful bliss. 'Swim,' she urged herself, 'swim!' It was so hard to fight the serenity that threatened now to consume her into a dark, deep, dreamless sleep. 'Fight it! You have to... fight this.' She shook her head to clear away the stupor. 'Open your eyes! You have to find your focus. Hold on to your consciousness. Fight for it! It's too hard...I can't...' Maybe a little rest would help her to find her strength. She began to drift… 'NO! Don't let this happen! Open your eyes damn it!' She struggled, eyelids fluttering, light and dancing images coming at her in a confused jumble, as she strained to focus. For the briefest of seconds she found her vision again. A face. The face of a man. That man! That monster! She knew him... remembered him... but she couldn't quite grasp his name. The image was gone. Left now to haunt her memory. She swam again in the murky depths of her opiate thoughts. 'Bastard! I can't fight it anymore... need to sleep. Need... to... let go. No... No...' The fight was over. Darkness took Ruth Evershed.

Harry looked out onto the Grid through the expanse of his office windows. His eyes found her desk. It was still empty. He checked his watch. She should have been in an hour ago and, while precise timekeeping was not her forte, he was worried; it had been too long.

He made is way out onto the Grid and addressed his team. "Has anyone heard from Ruth today?" The response was a collective shaking of heads. He didn't want to alarm his team without reason, so he brushed it off but called Malcolm into his office.

"I'm worried about Ruth, can you do a sweep of the CCTV footage near her house? See if there's anything untoward?"

Malcolm nodded and left Harry alone, hoping that he was just over reacting.

It wasn't to be however. Thirty minutes later, Malcom was back. "Harry, you need to see this!"

Her first sensation coming out of the nothingness was pain. A pounding throb in her head. A burning ache in her shoulders and across the back of her neck, running down the lengths of her arms and ending where her wrists were bound tightly behind her back. Her legs were bound too. Still groggy, she hadn't immediately thought to open her eyes. Now as she did, she became aware of her surroundings. At least she wasn't blindfolded. She hated the suffocating feeling of sightlessness. She was lying on the floor in what appeared to be some sort of walk in wardrobe. The only light coming into the tiny room came from under the door. It was enough though, once her eyes had gotten used to the darkness. She shifted a little to try and give her aching muscles some relief. She struggled to sit up, and wiggled over to lean against the back wall. There were a few shelves on the wall, but they were empty. It didn't look as if she'd been left with anything she could use to free herself. Her mouth wasn't gagged. Probably because she was safely out of anyone's ear shot, should she attempt to call for help.

She wondered what time it was. How long she'd been out. In her mind she tried to piece together what she could to reconstruct exactly how she came to be in this place. She'd been on a late shift, so she'd done some shopping early that morning to beat the rush and then she'd gone home to clean. She had just been about to get the hoover out of the cupboard under the stairs when the doorbell had rang. When she'd opened the door there was nobody there. She'd stepped out a bit further and looked up and down the street… nothing. Just as she had been about to return inside, she heard the pop of a rifle and in almost the same instant, felt the hot, stinging pain as a tranquiliser dart hit her in the back. She remembered spinning around and attempting to pull out the dart before looking up in the direction the shot had come from. But then her eyes had lost their focus and she felt her legs give out. She hit the ground hard and then... and then... a face… she thought she recognised that face… and then darkness.

Harry paced his office like a caged animal. He was out of his mind with worry. When it had become apparent that Ruth had been taken, finding their analyst became the team's top priority. Adam and Zaf had gone to her house; but they'd found nothing. Her front door had been open, but there'd been no signs of a struggle. There were no fingerprints, no witnesses. They'd been over the place with a fine-toothed comb but there wasn't a single clue as to where Ruth was or why she had been taken.

They had quickly discounted threats from any current operations and were relying now on the CCTV footage from the surrounding streets and then analysis of it. He watched as the team viewed image after image, face after face, vehicle after vehicle from the last week.

He poured himself a large whiskey and downed it in one, his eyes drawn to the image Ruth's captor had sent him. He needed to get her back. He wasn't ready to lose her. He cared about her too much and they were too close to becoming something more.

"I've got him!" he heard Jo shout and he rushed to her station.

"This van has been in the vicinity of Ruth's house every day for the past week. There didn't seem to be a pattern with the times until I looked into the log from Ruth's security system. The times she got home from work match up with the times the van was in the area."

"She was being followed."

"I'd say so… there's more."

"I ran the plates through the DVLA database and the van is registered to a Max Thornton. He and Ruth have history."

"What do you mean, history?"

She pulled up a file and pointed out the relevant section to Harry. "Take a look."

His eyes scanned the screen and he felt as if all the air had suddenly been sucked out of his lungs. "Jesus!" Heart racing, and with a trembling hand, he picked up the phone. "Get me CO19," he told the operator before turning back to Jo. "What's his address?"

Ruth had fallen asleep, but awoke with a start as light flooded around her. Painful, bright piercing light assaulting her eyes as they blinked… trying to get used to the sudden change. Squinting, she made out the silhouette of a man towering above her in the open doorway. He plunged towards her, grabbing the ropes that bound her ankles and pulled. As she was dragged from her makeshift cell, she got her first clear glimpse of her captor. Before she could stop it a horrified gasp escaped her and she could see how her fear pleased him. A face from her past, from the murky depths of her nightmares. 5'11". Dark brown hair pulled in pony tail. Sharp, angular facial features punctuated by his deep, heavy set, brown eyes. This man had haunted her dreams since that fateful day fifteen years ago. He'd been in her classics lectures; sat silent, broody at the back of the hall, watching people. Watching her. She'd been walking home after a late night in the library when he'd approached her and struck up a conversation; asking about her understanding of their latest essay question. She'd been so engrossed in telling him her thoughts she didn't realise he'd led them down a dark passageway between two campus buildings. He pushed her roughly against the wall and kissed her. She'd fought with him, pushed against him, trying to get him off. But it was no use, he was stronger than her. He'd had his hands inside her knickers when a drunken crowd had staggered passed the end of the passage. It distracted him enough that Ruth could push him away and escape his clutches. She ran faster than she ever had before, all the way to campus security.

She'd reported him and then more girls had come forward; she hadn't been the only one that this had happened to. He'd been sent to prison for fifteen years, but it seemed he hadn't served his whole sentence as he was now free and back to finish what he had started.

Max delighted in the terrified look she gave him. "I see you remember my face, Ruth. I'm pleased you haven't forgotten, because I certainly haven't forgotten you."

Ruth swallowed hard and somehow found the courage to speak. "What do you want Max?"

He laughed. "You and I have unfinished business darlin'," he drawled. "You're the one that got away."

"You sick bastard," she spat.

The back of his hand hit her hard across the cheek and he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head sharply to one side. "I will finish what I started all them years ago," he leered, pushing her down onto the bed and climbing on top of her.

Remembering the training from those self-defence classes Harry had sent her on after the debacle with The British Way, she swiftly raised her knees and caught him in the crotch. He yelled and let go of her to cradle his privates and she tried to roll away from him and off the bed. His hand shot out and gripped her arm tightly, stopping her. He slapped her across the face again, this time breaking the skin; she could feel the salty taste of blood filling her mouth. She screamed and fought against him trying to break free. She quickly became exhausted, giving him the opportunity to subdue her once again. He ripped one of the pillow cases from the bed and gagged her with it, before dragging her back to the wardrobe and slamming the door.

She was grateful for the darkness, grateful to be away from that monster. Her right eye was beginning to swell and it hurt like hell. Her lip wasn't much better, but at least the gag was stemming the blood. She heard Max stomping about, slamming doors. She'd made him angry. She closed her eyes and prayed help would arrive soon.

They were approaching the house, and Harry could see CO19 tackling their man to the ground out front. Even before Adam had stopped the car Harry was out and running up the path to the house. Without a seconds hesitation he flung his weight at the door, breaking it down. "Ruth!" he called. From somewhere upstairs, he could hear her muffled cries. "I'm coming Ruth," he yelled as he moved through the house. He pushed through door after door until he saw the wardrobe doors in the back bedroom moving as someone kicked against them from the inside.

He untied the rope that was acting as makeshift lock between the door handles and threw the doors open. He knelt down and gently freed Ruth from her restraints, being extra careful of her injuries. Ruth didn't say anything, just sat there silently waiting for Harry to finish. When he was done, he helped her to her feet and sat her down on the bed.

"Are you okay?" he asked, sitting down next to her.

She nodded, and dropped her head onto his shoulder. She shut her eyes and felt the heat radiating from through the thin fabric of his shirt. He wrapped his arm around her waist as she leaned into him, taking comfort from his presence. She breathed in his scent, that mix of spicy cologne, laundered shirts and whiskey that was uniquely Harry. It calmed her.

"Harry?" she whispered.

"Yes Ruth?"

"Thank you for coming for me."

Harry kissed the top of her head and placed his free hand over hers, bunched in her lap. "As if I could have done anything else."