Disclaimer: I definitely don't own NCIS: New Orleans. Obviously.

A/N: Here we go. Another 'Brody torture' fic. This story was inspired by a photo and conversation. Also, BonesBird will be posting a 'missing scene' that takes place during this story that will be entitled 'Desperate Measures'. This fic isn't really Prody, but like many of my stories it could be if you squint enough. BonesBird's 'Desperate Measures' will, however, definitely be Prody. I highly recommend taking a look at it once it's posted! In the meantime, on with the story...

The grip on her upper arms was unrelenting as she was forced to keep walking. The handcuffs holding her hands behind her back were far tighter than any agent or police officer would make them. As her captor pushed and shoved her, making sure she kept going even as she stumbled along the way, Merri tried to pry herself free, but it wasn't working.

"Stop it," her captor ordered as she nearly wrenched her arm out of his grip.

He shoved her forward and Merri fell into the metal chair, her knees hitting the edge and her shoulders wrenching in a way that made her wince even though she tried to hide it. Before she could get her feet under her she was pulled up, turned around, and then slammed back into the chair.

"Try to run and I'll shoot you in the back. Got it?"

She gave a nod, not trusting herself to speak without making a comment that would probably put her in an even worse position. He didn't seem to actually be paying all that much attention to her response anyway though. He moved around the chair to stand behind it and she felt him push her forward so he could unlock the handcuffs.

Brody blew a strand of long hair out of her face, but a second later he pulled her back so she was against the back of the chair. She moved her hands from around her back and fought the urge to rub her sore wrist. She wasn't going to present him with anything he might see as weakness though.

He moved to her right side, his scuffed up shoes shuffling against the concrete floor, and quickly grabbed her wrist and tied it to the arm of the chair with a thick wire cord. As soon he had it secure he moved around the back of the chair to do the same to the other side. He was smart enough to stay out of range of her feet and legs which she could kick him with, she noted.

As soon as he was done securing her arms he moved to the front of the chair, standing just out of range of her feet, and before she realized what he was about to do he reached over and tore the wig off her head before stepping back again. The sudden and forceful removal of the wig made her scalp tingle since it'd been applied so flawlessly and her natural short hair had been interwoven in it.

She shook her head, getting her hair to lay flat again. After four months wearing the long hair it felt odd not having it. Her neck suddenly felt cold and bare without it. "This isn't going to work," she told him as he began to leave.

"Shut-up, Alice." He looked back over his shoulder as he stopped in the single entrance. "Or whatever your real name is."

With that he left the room, closing the door behind him with a 'snap'.