TW: non-consensual touching, physical assault, gun violence, minor character death, non-fatal strangulation
Chris blinks awake a few hours later. Her vision is blurry for a moment, and she's disoriented as the pain in the rest of her body registers.
There's no window or light offering her a clue as to what time it is, no hint of an outside world beyond cinder block walls. Her feet are a few inches off the ground, she realizes, and she's dangling from cuffs fastened tight around her wrists. Her shoulders are already aching from how the position pulls at her muscles. They don't budge despite how much she tries to wriggle herself free. The cement wall bites into her back and she's overtaken by a chill.
Taking a deep breath, Chris tunnels her focus and scans the room for anything that could help her. It's small, dark, and damp, with a plastic folding table in the corner that has a deck of cards and an ashtray on top. There's a string and lightbulb in the middle of the room, though it's out of her reach.
A door in her periphery grabs her attention, but she knows she won't be able to tell from her angle who enters until they're already in front of her. No substantial noises filter in aside from footsteps above her and the occasional car horn, no waves or traffic that could tell her where she is in the city. Assuming you're still in the city.
Refusing to buy into that thought and the slew that will follow, she whispers to herself that she will survive, and then repeats it when it doesn't stick the first time. She wriggles one more time in an attempt to free herself, wincing when all she accomplishes is digging the metal further into her wrists. Closing her eyes, she takes deep breaths until her heart doesn't feel like it's going to beat out of her chest.
"You'll get out of here." She promises herself. "You'll get out of here."
"Anything?" Tan asks once he and Luca get back to HQ. There are boxes of files all over the place, all cases Chris worked in some capacity, and an ever-changing list of possible suspects on a whiteboard.
"We've eliminated a few of her past cases," Hondo starts. Street is focused on the iPad in his hands and trying to tune the conversation out.
"And we're watching any online message boards that might pop something up. The lab processed some DNA that isn't Chris's, but there's no match in the system. Deacon should be back in an hour." They nod along as he speaks, Tan giving his report once Hondo's done.
"Her apartment complex didn't turn up much. Neighbors said they were either out or watching something that drowned out most of the noise, so they didn't think anything of what they did hear. Super said he remembers seeing two unknown men in baseball caps in her hallway around 6, but he didn't get a description."
"Officers are stationed in the parking garage and around a perimeter in case anyone remembers anything. Her truck hasn't been tampered with, but no one reported seeing an unfamiliar car in the lot."
Street and Hondo sigh as they listen, knowing that, unless rerunning the DNA gets a hit, they're still essentially at square one.
"Alright, good work, guys." Hondo says. "Let's keep digging through these files. Ones we've ruled out go back in the box. If you're not sure, throw it on the table and someone else will get their eyes on it."
"What are the odds it has something to do with the Brass Arms?" Tan asks, pulling up her most recent case log to skim it.
"It's possible, but there's no record of Huevo or any of his associates entering the country since his release 6 months ago. If it's them, he's got to have help."
She can't tell how much time has passed when the door opens for the first time, if it's already Wednesday or not. She jerks and her eyes snap open as two heavily-armed men walk into her line of sight, but only one she recognizes. The other leans against the opposite wall, chewing a toothpick and gun held in a loose grip at his side. Huevo stands directly in front of her, smiling like a snake.
"Hello, Christina," he says, voice smug.
"Huevo. What do you want?" She tries to keep her own voice even, refusing to show any fear.
"Don't be so quick, we have plenty of time to find that out, don't we?" He steps up to her, the heels of his shoes clicking on the concrete floor. His hand grazes the strip of skin where her shirt has ridden up, and she holds in a retch but can't stop the shiver that runs up her spine. The musk of his cologne is too strong, the quality of his clothes and rings adorning his hand at odds with the stained jeans of the other man.
"What do you want?" She asks again, jaw clenched and tone defiant. The other man steps towards her, raising his gun, but a hand stops him.
"It's okay, José. If Christina wants to know now, I'll tell her."
He squeezes her chin to hold her steady and force her to make eye contact, his ashy breath on her face.
"You need to repay me. For the seven years of my life you stole when you put me in prison. For the girls you took from me. I want them back. I want Selena back. You tell me where the safe houses are, and all of this is over." The barrel of his gun is pressing into her side but she refuses to blink first.
"It should've been for the rest of your life. So kill me, I'm not giving them up. I'm not scared of you."
"We'll see." Huevo says, with a sinister smile, like he knows something she doesn't. He steps so they're chest-to-chest and pushes his hips into her hips and his gun into her exposed side. She feels her blood pressure rise as his hand lingers on her and he laughs again, thin and jarring.
"I could kill you now, but where's the fun? I'll be back." He whistles at his lackey to open the door and she jumps when it slams, trying to calm her racing heart.
Hours pass with her awareness steadily waning, eyes shutting involuntarily and then snapping open. The longer she hangs, the more her arms ache and the worse her head hurts, and eventually she loses against her exhaustion.
"Luca, Deacon, and Tan are rolling out." Hicks storms into Command, where the team has reconvened to reconfigure the piles of manila folders they've gone through. "Rocker's team needs the support on a large-scale hostage rescue. Hondo, Street, prep Black Betty and then keep working Chris's case. Those are your orders. Go!"
All of 20-David want to voice their opposition to working on anything other than finding Chris, but a quick look from Hondo stops them in their tracks.
"Go. The sooner you get back, the better. Fill the gaps, you guys will be fine." He fixes them with a nod and the two head to their lockers.
"Street, let's go. Betty should be mostly restocked." Hondo almost adds ten minutes away won't harm anything, but he thinks better of it, the thought making his own stomach curdle.
When they've dispersed, Hicks looks around the mess that has become Command as they've sorted through years of her work. She's still alive, he reminds himself, until they find otherwise. He racks his brain for any case she may have worked on, anyone she's booked that would have a specific vendetta, but nothing comes to mind and he squeezes his fist.
His feet are still glued to the spot when Hondo and Street return, the former calling Hicks's name to get his attention.
"I'll be back, Hondo." Hicks says, distracted. "Let me know if you find anything."
The sergeant nods, watching his boss walk away and then looking over to see Street, gaze focused on something far off.
"Street?" He asks, Street jumping at the feel of a hand on his shoulder.
"What? Sorry, Hondo, I'm fine." He tries to step past Hondo, but he holds him where he is.
"Go get a protein shake from the kitchen. You need to take care of yourself, too, you're no good to Chris if you're dead on your feet. Take a five."
Street's nostrils flare, but he knows fighting Hondo isn't going to do any good, and somewhere it registers that the older officer is right, so he nods in defeat.
"I'll be back in fifteen minutes."
Ice-cold water shocks Chris awake soon after she falls asleep. She knows the pressure of the hose is going to bruise, if not break, her ribs, but there's nothing she can do to avoid it, and she refuses to beg.
It soaks her to the bone. Feels like knives on her nerves so she can't breathe, her body writhing and hitting the wall as it tries to protect her. The second air enters her lungs in a desperate gasp, another painfully sharp stream of water hits her and the cycle starts over, followed closely by someone releasing a chain so her body slams into the ground.
Chris loses track of how many times they hit her, her clothes clinging to her shaking body, and in the midst of the chaos, she can't stop whoever slips another heavy cuff around her ankles. When it actually, finally stops, she's left as a whimpering heap on the ground who can barely crack her eyes open. When she does, she's staring at multiple pairs of shoes.
"Where are they?" Huevo hisses from above her, and she knows she's prey, trapped in a corner with no choice but to fight. She shakes her head and kicks at him, smirking when his knee buckles before he regains himself. He snarls and sets his boot on her chest. It makes Chris gasp as he pushes into her ribs until he hears a crack.
"You're a feisty little bitch, aren't you? I've broken men far stronger than you, and there's a long line of people who want to help me. They'll be carrying you out of here in a body bag. Where are my girls?"
Her teeth are chattering, and all she can muster is a whisper, but she does.
"Fuck off."
Huevo squints and releases his foot. She tries to curl into herself, her body desperate to protect from any more injury, but before she can, hands are on pulling her up and shoving her into a chair.
"José, Eric, go get him." Huevo commands. The two men scramble to follow his orders, and open the door to drag another man into the room. His face is black and blue, and his wrists are also chained. Chris squints, but through the bruising, the man is unrecognizable.
They shove him into a chair opposite hers, blood spilling from his mouth when he coughs. Chris struggles against her restraints, a feeling of helplessness settling over her.
"Let him go!" She demands, and is met with a piece of duct tape over her mouth.
"I don't think I will, Christina, because he was just as much a cause of my problems as you." Huevo juts his chin out towards his men, one handing him a revolver before they both go flank the door. He removes a single bullet from his front shirt pocket, loading it into the gun and spinning it.
"And you have something I need, but I'm through with him. I thought you could do the honors. We'll see how upstanding you are then." The gun is shoved into her hand, though she's shaking so bad she almost drops it. Huevo walks around her, squats to see where the gun is lined up on the other man's body, and then smiles wide.
"Shoot it."
She shakes her head fervently. Huevo repeats the command, and when she refuses again, he walks up to the other man and punches him.
"Shoot the gun!" He demands, "The second you pull the trigger, this stops."
Chris feels tears run down her cheeks, drying salty and gritty and her skin. The man looks in her eyes, gives her the best nod he's able to given his predicament, and she sends up a prayer before she pulls the trigger.
Nothing happens, though her body seems to jump back from her as soon as the gun clicks. It throws itself from her hand, her shaking worsening, and Huevo saunters to pick it up, positioning it in her hand again.
"Pull it again."
Chris looks the other man in the eye and he gives her the same nod, saying do it, it's okay. He looks up and takes a deep breath. Huevo's eyes are hot on her. She doesn't put in the same resistance as she did, shooting quickly.
She doesn't realize how tightly her eyes squeezed shut until she opens them again after the blank click. Every muscle relaxes, the tension held in them becoming painful, and she shakes her head in another desperate plea as the gun is returned to her hand.
A long breath escapes when, again, no bullet fires. Huevo sees her eyes shut again and shakes his head, signaling to one of his men as he clenches his adorned fist.
Rough hands meet her forehead and jaw, and they slam her head back into the chair whenever she so much as blinks. All the sound in the world dwindles to her blood rushing through her own ears.
"Pull the trigger." He whispers, his breath hot on her ear and down her neck. Tears blur her vision as the last grips she has on her composure leave her.
She braces herself for the kickback, but can't pull the trigger. Her nausea grows, and her hand shakes so bad she can't hold the weapon steady. Briefly, she has a vision of the team breaking down the door, but she looks around and it's clear there's no cavalry coming.
Huevo scoffs and snatches the gun from her. He signals to his men so they turn the man's chair around and Chris can only see the back of his head and Huevo looming in front of him. He circles them like prey, bouncing the gun between them and touching the metal to their foreheads.
"Well," he says, his tongue running over his teeth and stopping in front of the man, so he's looking at Chris.
"Wait." Huevo spits, jerking his head at José. "Untie him."
Chris fruitlessly tries to free herself again, but she's held down by Eric.
"Tell me where Selena is and he lives."
Eric's other hand sits on the edge of the tape, ready to pull it up for her to talk, but all she does is stare at the back of the man's head.
I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. She thinks, and she hopes he understands. Huevo shakes his head and clicks his tongue in disapproval, sighing as if he has no other choice while he revels in his own violence.
"Christina won't be saving you today. Take the gun." Huevo commands, and Chris's stomach sinks when she realizes what's happening.
She can't see clearly who's actually holding the gun, just remembers the sounds of it going off and then hitting the ground.
Blood spatter covers her, staining her face and hands and clothes, and no matter where she looks, all she sees is red. She can't breathe, and she feels like a feral, caged animal with how she struggles to break away and get to Huevo and his men. The tape muffles her whimpers and shouts as they scrape up her throat.
The men are speaking to one another, Huevo taking a cloth from José to pick up the gun. He jerks his head towards her, fixing her with one last, lingering look that makes her heart drop into her stomach.
Huevo walks out and another of his men walks in and approaches her. Her body pulls and jerks against the chair to get away, but his elbow locks around her neck, and the room goes black as Huevo's men begin to untie the dead man's body.
heyo! thanks for reading, and i hope you enjoyed even though our poor girl chris and the team are all having a terrible time :( thank you for all the love on the first ch! super excited to continue writing and hear your thoughts. can't put into words how happy all the engagement makes me from new and old readers alike! sending you all my love & well wishes. stay liquid! xo, A