*This chapter does contain rather graphic torture and gore*

Sorry for the slow update: I had a little spontaneous holiday (woohoo) and I've been at work most days and lastly, the words weren't coming. My apologies. I'm a firm believer of letting the words flow and not forcing them so after seven days of silent plot bunnies, they have resurfaced with a vengeance! I very rarely write torture, it's not something I like doing but if the story calls for it I will write it. I also understand that this is completely out of character for Shaw.

Soundtrack: Clubbed to Death - Matrix

Joss awoke in an uncomfortable position. Her hands were tied behind her to a chair and her ankles tied to the legs. She lifted up her head and squinted around the room. It was a huge, dimly lit hall. There was a thick layer of dust settled on the concrete floor and no foot prints in it. How she got there was a complete mysterious. She calmed her rising panic and let her mind wonder back, trying to remember: the dull ache in her neck as she pushed herself off Harold's sofa. That's right, she stayed the night with the illustrious Harold Finch, the Harold Finch. Drinking a glass of milk was the next, it was cold and tasted sweet. A quick series of thuds came next: she walked over to the door and opened. A figure jumped down and hit her over the head with something hard. Another memory jumped into her mind. It was Harold, the piercing look he gave her as the travelled back from the outlands. Those cold, emotionless blue eyes digging into her. 'Keeping up appearances.' Joss counted to five in her head then opened her eyes again: calm, relaxed and emotionless. She held her head low and listened carefully, the absence of sound heightened her hearing. She heard a steady constant dripping of water onto the concrete floor. There was something else too, a steady, quiet sound that resembled air being pushed and pulled through a small entrance. Her head snapped up. Breathing. She turned to the side just as a strong hand grabbed the back of her head and held it there, painfully. Elias breathed into her ear.

'Hello Jocelyn.'

'Elias.' She said, keeping her voice steady.

Elias ran his thumb over her cheek. 'You have really beautiful skin Joss, what a shame it would be to break it.' Elias laughed and walked away.

Joss heard a zip being pulled backwards then silence. She tensed and looked up. Shaw was holding up a knife, grinning. Shaw stepped forward quickly and held the knife under her jaw creating a small cut. Joss breathed out heavily through her nose.

Shaw stood back and circled her. Below her, Joss sat still, dark eyes focused on a spot on the floor. The cut on her jaw trickled down her neck. Shaw admired her resolve; it reminded her of her younger self. She was stronger than most by build. She'd been tortured, as a torturer it was standard – know the weaknesses. She bared the physical scars of torture: oil burns, broken bones, every unpleasant action under the sun, even sexual actions. What Elias wanted Elias got. And right now, he wanted information. She knelt down and prodded the tip of the knife under Joss's fingernails. Joss screamed as Shaw pushed the blade deeper. Shaw stopped and stepped back again.

'I'm going to ask you nicely. Are you a sense offender?'

Joss's head snapped up, she spat at Shaw's feet.

'Go to hell.'

Shaw backhanded her across the face, the knife in her hand making another cut above her eyebrow. Shaw returned to pushing the blade underneath Joss's fingernails. Joss shouted and gasped at the stale air. Shaw stopped and went back to the bag on the floor. Joss's hands shook; she dug her nails into her palms trying to stop the searing pain emanating from her fingertips. She took a few deep breaths and steadied herself for the next onslaught. She picked her head up, steely eyes in place. She had to keep her resolve.

'It's a simple question really, a yes no answer.' Shaw paused. 'Are you a sense offender?' Shaw shouted into Joss's ear.

'No.' Joss shouted back.

Shaw stepped close again. 'The first person I tortured was a 13 year old boy. I pulled out his nails out, he didn't tell me anything, I pulled out his teeth with pliers, still wouldn't tell me anything, it was only when I cut his face from ear to ear he had something to tell me, but at that point it was too late. I slammed the knife into his throat and watched his as he choked on his own blood.'

Shaw teased the trigger and the drill bit wheezed into life again and again. Shaw dug the drill bit into Joss's knee and waited. The two women stared each other down.

'You don't want me to do that to you do you?' she toyed.

'Do your worst, you monster.'

Shaw squeezed the drill and the end penetrated into Joss's bone. Joss screamed as the drill dug deeper, throwing blood, flesh and bone over herself and Shaw. The harsh vibrations rattled her bones. She shut her eyes tightly and screamed through the pain. Shaw pulled the drill out, a flick of blood going up her face. She held the drill up and teased it again. She looked down at Joss below her; wheezing heavily, head bowed and blood splattering the floor in a strange artist decoration.

'Come on Jocelyn, tell me the truth.'

Shaw sent the drill into the other knee, Joss screamed again, her throat raw. Joss looked up into the darkness of the ceiling. Think other thoughts. Think other thoughts. She thought of John and Harold. The opportunity, the life he'd presented her – he hadn't even asked for anything in return. The things she'd seen and shared with them: Their tender kiss in the bathroom, the adorable giggles, sharing food, all small and all significant. Shaw pulled the drill out and Joss convulsed. She rested her head on her knees, she felt her blood and small chunks bone against her forehead. She was in agony, her cheek throbbing, her knees ablaze with a searing, precise pain. She had to keep it together, she owed Harold that much. Shaw reached inside her pocket and dropped a black and white photo onto the floor in front of Joss's face.

'We already know what happens in the penthouse Jocelyn.'

Joss pulled her head up, the look of hate on her face palpable.

'Where did you get that?'

Shaw thought for a second.

'Oh yeah, the bathroom, in the penthouse, which begs the question, how did I get it?' Shaw paused and slowly paced up and down in front of Joss. 'It must have hurt a little to see Harold and John share that… tender, loving moment. What did he say? If you can forgive me, I can forgive you. It's sick.' Shaw shouted the last sentence and pushed Joss's head back violently. Shaw grabbed the bloodied blade, she dug the blade into the soft inside of her shoulder and pulled it across her chest. Shaw untied Joss's hands from the chair and forced her to stand up. Shaw tied her hands to a chain dangling from the ceiling. Shaw stepped back. Silence filled the room. Silence louder than a scream. A metallic crack ripped through the air and Joss screamed. Two dozen small nails attached to a chain dug into her back and ripped through the flesh on Joss's back. She shut her eyes tight and gritted her teeth. The nails bit into her flesh again and she screamed out, tears falling from her eyes. Shaw whipped her again.

'Stop.' Joss broke down in tears, she was defeated. 'Stop.'

Shaw's lips curled into a think smile and she dropped the bloodied chain on the floor. She walked closer to Joss and stood in front of her. Joss looked up, her breathing laboured and heavy.

'I remember you now.' Shaw threw her a puzzled eyebrow. 'Your partner was Mark Snow.' A faint flash of recognition flittered across Shaw's face. Joss leaned forward pulling on the chain around her wrist; her face was so close to Shaw's. 'I murdered him, and I was happy.' Shaw dug her hand into the large cut across Joss's chest and grabbed hold of her collar bone and pulled, breaking it. Joss screamed and slumped against her bounds, shaking with pain and shock. Her snapped collar bone jutted from her open wound.

The door at the far end of the great room was blown in. John ran in with Harold behind him. John fired shots in Shaw's direction causing her to duck. Shaw ran over to Joss and cut her down. Shaw grabbed a gun out of her bag and returned the bullets John had fired at her. Two of John's bullets hit Shaw in the hip, she yelped, she stumbled and fell into the darkness. Hit. He turned his attention back to Joss on the floor. Harold knelt next to Joss and held her hand. John looked into Joss's eyes.

'Hey.' She mumbled.

'Hey.' John smiled. 'Sorry we're late.'

Joss chuckled then grimaced in pain. She choked, pain filled John's eyes.

'Joss, stay with me, Joss please.'

'It was good yeah?'

'Yeah.'

'I'm sorry John.' Joss's eyes fell to Harold's. 'Thank you.'

Joss's body shook then stilled. The life left her dark, beautiful eyes. Harold hit the floor in frustration. John held her body closer and rocked it gently, back and forth. Harold picked up John's gun. John grabbed Harold's wrist and looked into his angry dark blue eyes.

'Don't do this Harold.'

'I have to. For Joss.'

John sighed then nodded. 'For Joss.' He confirmed.

Harold took up and followed Shaw's blood trail into the darkness. John listened the uneven steps of his Master disappear into the darkness. John placed a small kiss on Joss's forehead, he looked down her body, counting her injuries, shuddering at them. He respectfully laid her body on the floor and closed her eyes for the last time. He stood up and followed hot on Harold's heels.

*I do understand that what I have written here is not pleasant and if you do have any issues please do PM me. I am sorry for any offence and hurt caused.