A/N- What's this? Two updates in the period of a few hours? I have just been hit with the inspiration truck and I am on a roll!

So this chapter gives a little bit more insight about Holly's past and what she did to wind up on the wrong side of Charlie Price.

Please don't forget last chapter's Author's Note - I'm not sure whether to be working on this or Secret Santa, so can you guys help me prioritise? Thanks! You're the best! xx

~MBL

6 HOURS SINCE MISSING

"I have to pee."

Holly was looking up at Charlie expectantly, as he brought in a tray of supposedly dinner. All Holly could see on it were a few scraps of lettuce, a dinner roll a dinner roll and a sausage.

Charlie raised an eyebrow, chuckling. "You what?"

"I am a woman. Women have needs. Right now, one of those needs is to pee."

Charlie set down the tray on the bedside table, reaching under the bed and bringing out a bedpan. Holly looked at it in disgust, and then looked up at her captor, equally disgusted.

"What is this?" She spat.

"A bedpan. You pee in it." The older man had managed to add a tone of innocence to his mocking sentence.

"I am not peeing in a fucking bedpan. I deserve some dignity."

In a split second rage, Charlie threw the bedpan onto the floor and grabbed the front of Holly's pale green blouse, pulling themselves together so they were nose to nose. "Now you listen to me, you little whore!" he began. "You're not going to treat me with disrespect. Are you forgetting that you're the one that is tied up and I'm the one that put you there? So you're going to treat me with some damn respect and if I say you're peeing in the bedpan then you're going to pee in the motherfucking bedpan. Understand?"

Not saying a word, Holly spitefully spat in his face, earning her a punch across the cheekbones. She bit her lip, hard, to stop herself crying out in pain. She then could feel a metallic taste in her mouth and realized that she had just bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

His mood once again changing instantaneously from rage to serenity, he bent down once again to pick up the bedpan, placing it between her legs. "Either you piss in the bedpan or the bed. Your choice."

"I can't exactly pull my pants down to piss, in case you haven't noticed."

Charlie just smirked at her. "That's what I'm here for. You call me and I help you out."

Holly looked at him in utter disbelief. This is what he always wanted, and some trivial thing such as needing to pee was going to make everything all the more easier for him.

"Fine, can you pull down my pants?"

"I'm sorry what was that? I didn't hear any manners." Charlie asked, placing a hand behind his ear, earning a low growl from the blond.

"Can you please pull down my pants, so to assist me with relieving myself and taking a piss in a shitty bedpan?"

"No problem, sweetheart." Holly visibly shivered from the nickname, earning a wide grin from the graying man.

He undid her pants and held the bedpan up so she could relieve herself. Once she was done, he pulled up her pants, leaving her zipper undone.

"What about my zipper?" Holly asked, incredulously.

"Your pants will be off again soon, this will just save time." Charlie shrugged, earning a slack-jawed look from the woman.

Quickly recomposing herself, Holly looked back up to the man. "What if I need to shit?"

He chuckled to himself. "Haven't you grown up to be a wonderful lady?" This earned a mock smile from the woman in bed. "You piss in the bedpan, you shit in the bedpan. I clean it up afterward."

Picking up the bedpan and sending a wink, Charlie left the room, leaving Holly to her thoughts once more.

As she heard her captor lock the door, Holly instantly noticed that her left cheek was throbbing uncontrollably and was burning with pain. She decided to look around the room once more, not wanting to linger too much on the horrifying photos that were plastered all over opposite walls.

Holly looked around the windowless room, looking for an escape route. Sure, she gave herself up for Natalie Brown, but she didn't want to stay here! She was planning on rushing him as soon as he let his guard down after he tied her up, but he had slashed her knees far too quickly for her to even react.

She thought about JJ. Her best friend. If she wasn't so closed off and admitted what was wrong, maybe she wouldn't be in this horrifying predicament. Again. The blue-eyed blond would've helped her, would have understood. She would've been there just like Holly was there when she found out about Rosaline.

But then the car accident happened and her family was dead. All because of her. What a shitty way to spend your seventeenth birthday. If she didn't get absolutely drunk that night at JJ's, maybe her best friend would not have called her parents. Maybe they would not have come to pick her up. Maybe they would have not gotten into an argument about how she was destroying the family. Maybe they would've seen the truck coming at them front on.

Her life was full of what ifs and maybes these days.

Her older brother and mom died on impact. Her dad was put in a coma and declared brain-dead and Holly had to make the decision to turn off life-support. And what did she get? A broken hand, a fractured foot and a concussion. People came to visit her in the hospital to offer their condolences and to wish her a speedy recovery. Holly didn't want a speedy recovery. She just wanted to die, to be with her family.

JJ was the only one who didn't feel sorry for her, knowing what she went through. She knew Holly didn't want support, she just needed to vent to someone. And vent is exactly what Holly did. JJ would spend every day at the hospital, listening to Holly rant about how she was a shit daughter, a shit sister, and a shit friend. JJ became Holly's rock, as Holly was JJ's rock four years after Rosaline died.

The return to Holly's grandfather's had been tough, he had no idea how to take care of a fragile seventeen year old girl, having only three boys himself. So when Holly demanded she stay alone at her family home, with Robert Green listed as her emergency contact and legal guardian, there were no objections.

Living in an empty mansion, with memories in every room, on every step, took a lot of getting used to. But Holly liked the emptiness. The mansion was her. Empty. She would cry herself to sleep late at night, only to wake up a few hours later with a jolt, kicking and screaming and crying out for her parents, for her older brother to come and comfort her, only to realize they weren't there.

There was no point in school anymore. No point in soccer. No point in music – her lifeline. She would try to get drunk, to forget, only to have her remember that the dreaded liquor was what had gotten her family killed in the first place.

The only way to calm herself was if she went into a raging episode, which she began to do very often. Whenever JJ would come and visit her, something new would be found broken, shattered. She came into her parents' room and completely trashed everything, not bothering to stop for a second and think about what she had done.

Holly felt just like the shattered belongings: broken beyond repair.

JJ finally decided enough was enough and forced her to stay at her place. Things seemed to be getting better; she would stay off the alcohol longer, her grades were slowly increasing, she was promoted to vice-captain with JJ as captain of the varsity team, and she began to play more and more tunes with her guitar.

She was still far from better, but she had made an improvement.

Then she met Charlie. He wasn't always a bad guy, he was ten years older than Holly but he knew how to have fun with her. Charlie was her secret, she never told a soul, not even JJ. More often than not, Holly would come to school with a collared jacket to hide the bright hickeys on her olive skin. JJ always knew something was up; she saw the hickeys many times and would ask what had happened the night before. Holly would always respond with the same sentence:

"Just had a bit of fun last night, Jareau. It's not like I got laid or anything!"

And truth was, she hadn't gotten laid. Although she hated herself, she never wanted to give herself away until the time was right. She wanted to maintain a tiny shred of dignity that was mostly whipped away by the car crash.

Holly started spending more time at home, more time with Charlie, she was helping take her team to the championship, she was even booking small guitar gigs at the only bar in East Allegheny. Everything was going well. For the first time in six months, Holly was finally happy.

But it's amazing how life decides to fuck with you just when you're at your happiest.

Of course, she couldn't go to JJ. Then she would know about Charlie. She would lecture her about the reputation he had and how she was stupid to be with him in the first place. How she deserved what she got.

And Holly did not need another lecture about how it was her fault bad things happened to her.

So she left. She left a letter to her best friend telling her not to bother looking for her and to forget about her. She left a note for her grandfather telling him she was going to live with her mom's side of the family back in Australia.

She went to university and got degrees in psychology and criminology. She attended the Australian Federal Police Academy and made top of the class. She was immediately assigned to another group of profilers and quickly moved up the ranks to lead her very own team. Everything was going smoothly. At work, she would catch hundreds of monsters and help catch hundreds of others. At home, however, she would still be haunted by nightmares of both the car crash and of Charlie.

Then she got the offer to join the FBI's elite BAU team, as she had gained such a stunning reputation. She was thinking about it, but realized she couldn't leave her team.

Then Charlie had sent her the letter with a bouquet of white roses – her favorite – and threatened to off her entire team if she didn't take the offer to get transferred back to America.

And that ultimately led her to this predicament.

Staring at the dark ceiling, Holly realized she had probably been reminiscing for the better part of an hour. She took another glance around the room and her now dull green eyes rested on the small bedside table, where she couldn't believe her luck.

Charlie's mobile phone was lying on the bedside table.

Holly quickly thanked a god she had not believed in for a long time, and struggled against the binds to reach the phone.

After ten minutes filled with a severely swollen lip from biting too hard, terribly grazed wrists from the ropes, and many whimpers of pain from the prisoner's mouth, she finally had the phone in her hands above her head. She looked up and quickly dialed a familiar number, and slid the phone down her arm to rest on her shoulder, ear pressed to the speaker.

One ring sounded. Two rings.

"Come on. Come on." She muttered, worry increasing that she would be redirected or disconnected.

"Pittsburgh PD, how may I take your call?"

Holly almost cried out at the first sane voice she had heard in hours. She quickly recomposed herself and spoke into the phone.

"I was wondering if I could speak with Agent Jennifer Jareau from the FBI. Is she there at the moment?"

"Hold on, I'll check. I'll patch you through in a moment."

"Thank you," Holly replied graciously.

The annoying hold music was then put on, and Holly listened to a boring voice drone on about how you could be safe in your home and when to dial 911 and all that routine procedure.

Holly then heard the sound of a receiver on the other end of the line being picked up.

"Agent Jareau."

"Jayje."

A/N- And here ends the reminiscing chapter! What will the phone call entail? Will Holly ask for help, or will she continue to remain a stubborn little bitch and let herself die? Review, favourite and follow to find out! ;)

~MBL xoxo