I'm so sorry! I know I said I'd have this up over a MONTH ago, but life happened. I honestly did have it finished when I said I would, but then I read over it and realized that it was terrible. four drafts later, I still wasn't satisfied, and I'm still not completely happy with it. But enough is enough, I am definitely out of time. So here is chapter four, I hope you like it. Please review!

and I have to add one more thing. Thank you so much to reviewer Joanna. I was at the point where I was almost giving up on the story, but her review pushed me to finish. All reviews helped, hers was just just so long after I'd posted that it surprised me.

Ch. 4

Juliet couldn't see for the blood running into her eyes, but she still reached for the voice of her boyfriend, unmistakable amongst the harsh voices of her kidnappers. She heard the click of a lock, and then frantic footsteps rushing towards her. Gentle hands grabbed hers, and she gasped in pain as her broken wrist protested.

"Oh my god, Juliet! What did you do to her?"

The amused voice of one of the men responded, "She thought she could outsmart us, we simply showed her her error. She needed to be put in her place."

Shawn was speechless with anger at how these men were treating his Juliet. He put his hand protectively on her shoulder.

"Pick her up, psychic."

"What? No way! That could badly hurt her!"

"Maybe you didn't hear me. I told you to pick up the girl." the man lifted his weapon slightly. Shawn knew he had no choice. He couldn't risk Juliet being hit again, the damage would most likely be life threatening. So he knelt softly beside her and slipped his arms underneath her torso and legs. She whimpered at the pressure, and he froze. He wiped the blood from her eyes so she could see who he was and that he would not try to hurt her.

"Hey, Jules." he whispered. "I have to pick you up, but I don't want to hurt you. Will you be all right?"

"Yeah," she croaked.

He tried again but this time she gritted her teeth and stayed silent. Shawn slowly stood up until he was straight, standing before the men with Juliet cradled in his arms.

The one who was clearly in charge, with the black coat, then did something unexpected. From his pocket he pulled a familiar phone. He lifted it up and snapped a picture of them, then typed something in. Smirking, he leaned forward and showed them the screen.

Juliet was the first to react, although at first she was just confused. Who was that poor girl Shawn was holding? But then she began to notice the details, the blonde hair covered in blood, the nice clothes ripped and battered, and the terrified, distressed look in her pale blue eyes.

"Oh..." when she realized that the girl was her, she immediately began to panic. How could she be that badly off? That girl looked like she was dying, and Juliet hadn't had any idea that she was hurt anywhere close to that. She held back tears of horror as she read the lines of type underneath.

Detective Lassiter- we have your partner and the psychic. If you want to see either one of them alive again, you will come to the warehouse where she was last heard from, alone. If we find any backup within a five-mile radius then we will shoot one of them. And I would hurry if I were you. I don't think miss O'Hara is going to be able to hold on much longer.

She hadn't realized that she was shaking until she heard the noises of Shawn trying to calm her.

"Juliet, it's gonna be ok. I won't let them hurt you. It's alright. It's alright." his fingers were gently stroking her arm, the small bit he could reach while holding her.

The man in the black coat laughed. "Don't lie to her, psychic. You have no say in whether or not we hurt her."

And with that, the other men walked up to him and reached for Juliet. Shawn couldn't even try to stop them for fear of hurting her. They each grabbed an arm and between them carried her over to the cell across from his. Black coat guy at the same time 'escorted' Shawn to his, unlocked it and tried to push him in. Shawn tried to fight him, but he wasn't very strong at the best of times and another thug quickly joined the fight.

Shawn quickly crumpled when one of the heavy metal sticks made contact with his skull. His mind was spinning as they dragged him over to his cell and left him panting on the floor. The lock clicked shut as he blearily raised his head. He saw Juliet in the cell across from his getting similar treatment. Except in her cell, they left a small white package with a red x on it. Medical supplies. Shawn bristled, knowing they had only left them to taunt her, as she could barely move, much less treat her own injuries. After double-checking her locks, they left with smug grins on their faces.

Now there was no sound in the almost empty block of cells except for Shawn's heavy breathing and Juliet's muffled sobs. Shawn carefully watched her to see how she would react to the supplies, if they would upset her more. But to his surprise, after several moments she dragged herself from her position on the floor over to the package and began to try to open it. When she saw him staring at her in awe she shot him a weak smile, before busting open the package and spreading the supplies around her on the concrete.

Would this amazing woman ever cease to astound him? There she was, bleeding and broken and completely helpless. Or so they thought, because after already doing the impossible and moving, she was now going to give herself medical treatment.

She reached first for the bandages and began to wrap her wrist. Blood gathered at her mouth as she bit her lip hard to avoid crying out. Shawn could practically hear the bones grating against one another as she tightly wound the cloth around the broken limb. When she had some use of her arm she began to wrap her ribs and set the bones in her leg so that they would not heal crooked. Her shouts of pain were mostly contained, and by the time she was done with her bones tears were pouring down her face. She was getting weaker from pain and blood loss, so after carefully bandaging the open cut on her forehead she curled up in the corner of her cell and waited for sleep. Shawn thought about stopping her, worried that she might not wake up, but she just looked so tired… so he let her rest. The sleep wasn't long in coming. When her soft breathing finally became the only noise in the hallway, Shawn relaxed somewhat. Raising his hand to his face, he realized for the first time that he was crying as well. He didn't sleep at all that night, just sat there and watched over Juliet.

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Detective Lassiter pulled up to the warehouse at long last. It didn't look like much, but this was the place where he had been told Juliet was being held. He pulled his gun and crept stealthily around the side to the door. Inside, the building was large and dark and each of his footsteps echoed back to him. He didn't see how anyone else could be there without him hearing, but he walked on. Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet changed. Instead of the cold concrete he was used to, it became stick and wet. He looked down to fin himself standing in a dark puddle... Blood? His heart jumped in shock when a few feet away he noticed a small gray suit jacket stained dark. Leaning over to brush it with his fingers, he recognized the material and the liquid. Juliet had been wearing the jacket, and it was definitely covered in blood. He stepped back in horror. What had happened here? His detective's brain immediately kicked in and he began to notice details. The footprints on the ground, the short metal instrument lying near the scene of the crime.

The scenario of what might have happened here was quickly forming in him mind, and he didn't like it one bit. He was getting angry, picturing what had happened to his partner here, when he heard brisk footsteps coming up behind him. He turned on his heel to face the suit-clad man striding out of the darkness, his expensive shoes clicking on the concrete.

"Ah, detective Lassiter! I was worried you wouldn't show. What do you think of my little crime scene here? I had the jacket put out just for your benefit."

Lassiter looked at this confident man standing before him, calmly talking about how he had had a woman beaten and coated her jacket in her blood. He really hoped he wasn't dealing with a psychopath here, because the last thing he needed today was an unpredictable kidnapper.

But he just stood there smiling. "Well, Come on then!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "Aren't you just dying to see the rest of the facilities?" and with that he turned and walked away.

Not seeing that he had much of a choice, Lassiter followed him towards the back of the warehouse. They stopped at the back wall, and the man turned and winked at him before sliding opened a hidden panel in the wall to reveal the dark hallway beyond.

The passageway was cool and echoey, their footsteps bouncing ominously back to the Detective's ears.

'I'm sure you are just dying to see Ms. O'Hara, aren't you?" he asked with a smirk. "Well, I'm afraid you are going to have to wait a teensy bit longer. She's a bit occupied at the moment.

Lassiter didn't know what the man meant by 'occupied', but it didn't sound at all nice and his dislike for that man continued to steadily increase.

"Until then, however, we have a lovely waiting room where you can rest and wait. Right this way, please."

A door to the right of them silently glided open. The room was dim, but it didn't look like a cell.

"Now tell me. Why should I go in there?" he asked. "I have absolutely no reason to trust you.

The man smirked. "Then I suppose we will have to let you go. But then you would have to settle for bringing Mr. Spencer back with you, because the young detective would be staying with us. I'm sure we can find a use for such a pretty young thing like her."

Lassiter saw that he had no way out of this, so he resisted the almost overwhelming urge to punch this man in the face and instead walked into the room. The door clanged shut behind him and lights flickered on. The room was gray concrete, with a couch off to the side and a blanket carefully folded over the armrest. He sat down with a groan. This was not going as planned and the chief would not be pleased. He realized that he was essentially a prisoner now and had no clue how long it would be until someone came for him. Irritated, he slumped back in his seat and began his long wait.

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Thanks! so, any comments or suggestions are MUCH appreciated. I shall now go sit in the corner and feel bad about what I'm going to do in the next chapter... *evil grin*

Bye!