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Story Notes:

I know there are a lot of hostage fics out there, but it occured to me that there are hardly any where Juliet gets kidnapped alone, so here you are.

Definite Juliet whump. Rating for violence. There may or may not be Shules later. I haven't decided.

Author's Chapter Notes:

I know what you're all thinking. Yes, I did finish my last fic yesterday. I'm what you might call a serial writer. It's why I post multiple chapters a day. :D

Hope you like this one.

The room is dark and apparently empty. Before my eyes can adjust a wave of pain radiates through my body. Once I recover, I reach for the base of my skull, where the pain originated. My heart sinks when I feel a sticky, wet substance coagulated through my hair. I remove my hand and look around.

It is impossible to see much with the small amount of light that leaks in from around the door. I am able to deduce that I am on a concrete floor, and that, since there are no noises from the outside, I am probably underground.

I wonder how long I've been here. Presumably, it was the injury to my head that resulted in my loss of conscience. I think back to what I was doing before, leaving the station late. It is Friday night, or it was. I am off this Saturday, I realize. No one will even notice I am missing until tomorrow. There is no light at all from outside, so I have no way of knowing what time it is.

I curl into a ball as more excruciating pain shoots through me. I am still whimpering when the door creaks open. The light burns my eyes and I am surprised to see how small the windowless room is, about the size of a third bedroom.   

"Good, you're awake," a man's voice says. He sounds relieved. I briefly wonder if maybe he thought he'd killed me.

He rolls me over and starts to pick me up. That is when what is happening registers. I kick him in the shin, the only place I can reach from my position on the ground. He jumps away but slowly approaches me again, this time from behind. I slam my fist into his nose. He grabs it, but does not move away this time. Using his foot, he forces me back onto my back. He straddles me as he forces my arms behind my back. I kick and jerk aimlessly as he pulls me onto my feet and forces me from the room.  

Another man is waiting in the next, larger room. He doesn't look like the kind of person one would suspect of kidnapping. He is average-sized and clean-shaven. His hair neatly combed in a way that suggests he possesses a white-collar job. He looks slightly older than the first man, who I placed in his mid to late twenties. There is a resemblance between the two, and I guess that they are related. They are vaguely familiar, but I can not place either of their faces.

The older man is winding a rope around his wrist. "She's finally up?" he asks. "I thought you might have hit her a little too hard."

"Give me a break," the first man grumbles. "There are some things I can do right."

The older man approaches me, and the younger man pushed me towards him, shifting his grasp to my wrists.

"Hold them above her head," the older man instructs. "Do you remember me, Juliet?" he asks as her binds my wrists. "We knew each other pretty well a long time ago, but you've probably forgotten, just like you've probably forgotten my sister." He winds the rope over a steel pipe and ties it so that my arms are suspended, my elbows nearly straight, above my head. Then he moves on to my ankles.

The thought that immediately floods my head is that his sister is someone from a previous case. I rack my memory for a photograph of his face paperclipped to a report. I come up empty.

"I know you have a new life now, Juliet," the man continues. "I know you moved here to get away from this. Did it work? Did you get away from my sister? Because I can't get away. I can't get away from what you did. I've tried. I've been trying for thirteen years."

This is when I know who he is. He smirks when I gasp. "Surprised?" he whispers. "Think it was behind you? It will never be behind you."

Chapter End Notes:
Chapter 2 up tonight or tomorrow. I love reviews. I know it sounds cliche, but they make me write faster.


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