Trigger Warning for Torture and Sexual Assault in this chapter and others. If you are not in the headspace to read those topics it's all good, just skip the Parts labeled *Iraq, those sections will be the only places where it is explicit. The characters will discuss it in other sections, however there will be no details, just mentions. The rest of the chapter/story will make since if you skip those parts.

*Iraq, Elizabeth, 2005

There's yelling, a lot of yelling. I can make out two voices, maybe there are three. I am trying to stay still so they think I am still out. It's getting harder not to move as most of my weight is on my broken wrist. I still have the bag on my head, and I am definitely still on the floor that I was roughly thrown on the last time I came to. I am trying to get in tune with my entire body, right now it's just the pain in my wrist radiating up my arm, that I feel, but I need to get with the rest of my body to assess for more injuries. It'll help me plan to get out, knowing how my body will work. I focus hard starting with my head, its pounding and my head is sticky, it must be blood because I can feel the fabric of the bag sticking to my forehead along my hairline. Going down, my neck is sore, which can be accounted for based on the floor alone, let alone adding in the whiplash from the IED explosion. My shoulder hurts, but it's just achy from my wrist. I shouldn't have any internal bleeding from the explosion, figuring that based on the fact that I am even conscious.

Suddenly I feel a shoe to my ribs, it wasn't a kick, not a real one anyway. He's talking to me, I listen closely trying to remember a language I'm fluent in, but that seems to be alluding me at the moment. Get up, he's telling me to get up. I stay still, wondering how I'm supposed to accomplish that with my hands tied behind my back and a bag over my head.

"Wake up." A second voice says, this one more forceful than the other one. His accent isn't as thick as I was expecting. It's almost British instead of Iraqi. I wish I could see him. I turn my head toward the voices, so they can see that I'm awake, I'm hoping to avoid a real kick to the ribs. I sense one of the men standing over me, as he bends down to pick me up. There are two sets of hands on me as they place me in a chair. It's hard, most likely wooden. One man secures my legs to the legs of the chair, while the other duct tapes my body to the back of the chair. My wrist throbbing once again as it's pushed tightly between my body and a hard surface.

"You shouldn't have been messing around in my business, Elizabeth." The British sounding one says. He knows my name, my real name. I now know two things, one I am going to die in this room, and two I will be tortured for information I have. There is a possible third option, which is a prisoner swap, but that is very unlikely at this venture in the war, I'm not worth an important terrorist in the scheme of things. I think about Henry, and our beautiful children. I can't believe I will never see them again.

Los Angeles, Lisa, 2014

"Why would you give him my number?" I hiss into the phone. "God, George, what if I would have been the one to answer his call?" He doesn't say anything for a long moment.

"Maybe it's time, Eli-" He starts

"Don't call me that! Elizabeth is dead. She died ten years ago in a small house in Iraq." It's not a lie, Elizabeth did die in that room. Her fire was extinguished during the 12 months she was there. And there is nothing in the world that can re-ignite it.

"Lisa" He emphasizes the name, "You. Are. Not. Dead." He speaks the words clearly and strongly.

"Did you think about what this could do to him? To the kids? Before you said, here call this random woman in LA she knew Elizabeth." I pull myself back from the rant I feel coming so Ashley can't hear me yelling to some spook over the phone.

"Elizabeth needs to stay dead. It's what's best for everyone. Henry, the kids… Conrad." I feel George's anger through the phone. I don't have to see him to know his face is red and his lips are in a tight line. He hates it when I defend Conrad. He hates that I care about his political career, he hates that I stay hidden because Conrad prematurely notified Elizabeth's family of her death.

"Elizabeth, what happened to you in Iraq was his fault." He says it eerily calm.

Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, George, 2006

I'm here on official orders from the director. I don't know the name of the patient I am here to visit. All I know is Conrad came into my office yesterday and handed me a piece of paper that said LRMC. Room 508D. When I asked what this was, he said "Go there, you'll know why when you get there."

I hesitate outside of room 508D, for just a second. As an agent, it makes me anxious, not knowing what's waiting for me on the other side. I raise my hand and knock. The faint "come in" that comes from the other side takes my breath away. It sounds like Elizabeth, but that's not possible. I open the door poking my head in first, I see her laying on the bed, and she looks small. She is too thin and her hair has taken more of a grey hue, than her usual platinum blonde.

"Bess." Her name comes out whispered on my exhale, as I fully walk into her room. She looks up at me her eyes are dark with no emotion on her face. I take a seat in the chair next to her bed she follows me with her eyes the whole time. "What happened kiddo?"

She shrugs her shoulders, well notably just one shoulder as the other one has obviously undergone surgery recently. Again no emotion. She is completely closed off. I wonder where Henry is. He has to be thrilled that they found her alive. If there is someone that can pull her out of survival mode, it's her husband.

"When did you get here?" I ask her.

"Three days ago." Her voice is raspier than I remember it.

"You had surgery." I point to her shoulder. She nods. "Can you give me a break down of your injuries?" She shakes her head.

"You can talk to the doctor, I'll sign the form." She won't meet my eyes. I find it odd that she said Doctor and not Henry.

"Where's Henry?" Her eyes snap up to meet mine and for the first time since I walk in the room I see her feel something. It's pain, and it's gone as quick as it came.

"I don't know." She whispers, with a notable hitch in her voice.