Jessica sat at Sarah's desk. As much as Director Asher tried, she was unwilling to leave the team until they found Sarah. The team welcomed her, knowing that being there was helping her with her pain. They all missed Sarah, and between cold cases, they desperately looked for clues. Weeks had passed and the hope of finding her diminished quickly, but they were unwilling to give up.

"Anything?" Gibbs asked as he came in with a round of coffee. Everyone shook their heads. Jessica looked at the photos on Sarah's desk with a degree of guilt.

"None of this was your fault Jessica," Tony said. "I promise. She will even tell you that."

"If she is still alive." She sighed.

The team tried to reassure her that she shouldn't hold any guilt without much luck. Jessica was upset with herself. Finding Sarah might have been the only way to help her.

Jessica pulled out a childhood photo she started carrying with her and stared at it. Gibbs watched her carefully; aware she had the old photo in her hands under the desk.

"Jess don't be mad at yourself," she heard Sarah say in her head. "I had to save your life. I couldn't let him take both of us. Just find me. Bring me home."

"I won't stop until I do," she said to the photo. "I won't stop."

Sarah curled up in the corner of the cold dark room. She had lost track of time, unsure of how long she had been in the cell. In some instances, she had passed out due to the pain and other times due to whatever he did to her, further confusing her understanding of the passage of time. She had been given only enough food to stay alive, although she stopped feeling any form of hunger. She was growing delirious with each blow. She had lost hope of rescue from the team and knew their chances of finding her were slim to none at this point. Her hair had become a tangled mess, and she was covered from head to toe with a mixture of blood, sweat, and dirt. Her clothes had been torn to the point that they barely covered her. Her wrists and ankles were raw from the chains. She was not chained now, because Bruno deemed her too weak to run. She could barely stand. She was too weak to fight back anymore. She had accumulated countless invisible bruises along with visible scars and infected cuts. She wiped her face with the dirt on the ground to hide any tear streaks that adorned her face. She had hit the point that she had rather die than stay in the prison and torture Bruno had locked her in.

The door slammed open, and the room was flooded with light. Sarah blinked hard to adjust to the sudden brightness as he kept her mostly in the dark. Bruno stepped into the room. The sharp knife in his hand glinted in the light.

"I fear they might be coming for me soon. I can't have any witnesses to implicate me." With his free hand, he let his hand trail up her side, lingering in spots, before he grabbed her by what was left of her shirt and pulled her up. "I'm sorry, Sarah. It has been so much fun."

"No, you're not," she said through her teeth.

He shrugged. "You're right." He cut a straight line down the right side of her face. He surveyed the work. He left a semi-deep gash that was starting to bleed profusely. He then focused his attention on the rest of the damage he placed on her. He approved of the marks he left from his fun. He smirked and threw her down. She caught herself just before her face hit the floor.

"You should be dead in a few hours if no one comes for you. If not, you will have some beautiful scars to remember me by." He gave her a kiss with a smug look and laughed as he left, locking the door behind him.

Sarah brought a hand to her face. When she pulled it away, she found her hand covered in her blood. The pain was not bothering her; it was just another piece that added to her continual suffering. She wiped the blood away that was trying to fall into her eye. As the blood drained, she fought to stay awake. She lost the battle and fell asleep on the floor, with the blood slowly draining from her face and soaking into her hair and clothes.