"As I said before this is round two Agent Callen." The captor said as he entered, slamming the door behind him. "I have to say, I really must hurry things along now, as I am becoming extremely impatient."

The captor glowered at Callen, hate radiating from his eyes. The man in front of him symbolized all he wanted to destroy. If his plans succeeded, he would be able to become the most feared terrorist ever. Probably the richest terrorist as well, if that was what he wanted, but he didn't really care about the money. He simply wanted to damage America, damage the country that had damaged his childhood, his life. He would soon become the terrorist with wells of knowledge. The terrorist with the best agents…

Callen was sitting on a steel chair, hands and feet tied. The captor motioned to the two thugs standing by the door. The thugs came over and started kicking, flipping the chair over onto the ground. They laid into him, punching, slapping, and kicking. He hated not being able to protect himself, feeling frustrated and helpless as the pain continued to fall upon him. The thugs wore sadistic smiles on their faces. When it finally stopped Callen felt a sharp pain from his ribs, his head was pounding, in fact every inch of his body was screaming in pain.

The captor smiled. "I see that you're still playing the part of the brave agent. Well the, I guess we'll have to crank things up a notch."

As he spoke, the captor picked up a hot poker and swung it towards Callen, pressing it down on his stomach. Callen bit down on his lip, hard, causing himself to bleed. He was given a minute to recover, before: "I don't really care about your latest cases anymore, agent Callen. Today, I want to know about any…weaknesses NCIS has. Let's concentrate on your team for now. Who is the weakest link, Agent Callen? What would happen if I stuck a knife in, oh let's say, little Nell? Would Mr. Beale still be able to function, or would you lose all your technical advantages?" The tone the captor used made Callen's skin crawl. He glared at the captor, who chuckled and said, "So does this particular kind of brain trick not work on you Agent Callen? Well, we have plenty of time to find out what does." Then, the burning stick or fire was used on him again. In the end, after ten minutes, it finally stopped.

Callen was covered in blood and grime. His body was shaking involuntarily. But despite all that, Callen managed to croak out, "I think I see a pattern here. You took Isabella and held her down under water ten times, shocked her ten times. You gave me ten lashes and now ten burns." Callen paused to breath in and smirked. "I can't quite seem to fit the beating in. Did that last for ten minutes?

The captor laughed. "Oh, that it did, Agent Callen. You should be glad, I was quite tempted to make it fifteen."

Once Callen was back in his cell, he began mentally taking stock of his injuries. The burns were agonizing, looking red and angry. He desperately pressed them against the cold walls, but the burns began smoldering again in just seconds. He closed his eyes and lost control of his body for a moment as he felt pain reverberate through him. He dropped to the floor. His body automatically started curling up into a fetal position.

With a strangled shout, Callen somehow managed to sit up again. His eyes were bloodshot, there was a huge crease between his eyes, and he was breathing heavily. This was worse than he had thought. He wondered how much he could hold on…

However bad Callen's current condition was. Isabella was worse. "Ah, Agent Knight." The captor said, letting a single drip of sarcasm stain his words. Isabella glared at him as she thought of all the things she would do to him if she managed to get hold of a gun. Isabella's arms were laid flat out on the white metal table, held there by cuffs. The room had a two-story tall ceiling; a rope looped through the cuffs and hung around a ceiling pipe, then had its other end disappear into the floor. The rope was slack and of no use for now, but Isabella was sure that it would come into play soon enough.

The captor laughed at her. "Oh Agent Knight…such silent hostility! Enough chit-chat, we must get along with our work." With those words, the captor casually picked up a knife and began twirling it, like a bored businessman would do with a pencil.

"Were you the depressed, moody kind of teenager, Agent Knight? Did you ever cut yourself?" The captor asked casually as he made three deep, identical incisions on Isabella's arm. Isabella winced but didn't make a sound. As the captor moved onto the other arm, he said, "Hmm, I don't quite see it." He once again carved three slashes on her other arm. Isabella jerked back automatically, a shudder passing through her body. Don't tense your muscles, she reminded herself. That'll just cause you more pain. She forced herself to stare calmly at the captor when he suddenly grinned and made two slashes on each of her arms. She couldn't help it. She screamed. The captor smirked, "Two more, agent Isabella."

Two more…Isabella found herself close to giving in. Just hurry up and get it over with, she begged the captor silently. Just let this pain end. She didn't want to have to be brave, to have to stand up to this torture anymore. It had begun with the drowning, but this cutting was really beginning to show the cracks in her. She hated this slow torture, this slow building up of pain. She screamed again as the last two cuts came down in quick succession.

The captor shook his head. "Such a loud, disruptive noise." He chided. Without any warning, he whipped out his gun and shot her in the shoulder. Isabella's body jerked back as the bullet tore through her skin, and then in rapid succession, her body got yanked up until she was dangling by the high ceiling pipe. Then without a second's stop, she was dropped, landing on her leg with a sickening crunch. A wave of nausea overtook her as the captor summoned the two thugs to take her back to her cell. As she left, the captor called, "Oh, be sure to show Agent Callen the number of cuts you have. I'm positive that he'll appreciate the irony."

She immediately noticed how weak Callen looked. She slowly limped over to Callen, keeping all her weight on her good leg, dragging her broken one behind her. She leaned against the wall, and then began slowly sliding herself down.

"God, Isabella, are you all right?" Callen said wide eyed as he saw the mess Isabella was in.

She laughed, it was a weak pathetic sound.

"Yeah, I know that you're probably not. Have you checked your injuries? Do you know how bad you're hurt?" Callen asked with a tender tone.

Isabella nodded. "Gunshot wound to the shoulder. Broken leg also bruised and cut badly. Ten cuts on my arms. Whole lot of blood loss."

"Ten! That guy has a sick sense of humor." Callen said, attempting not to let the horror show in his voice.

"He said that you would get it. What about you? What did he do this time?"

"Beating, burns. Nothing as bad as you." The two of them had decided to give up lying about the gravity of their injuries. It was pretty much pointless, since they were both trained to be human lie detectors. The captor entering interrupted their conversation. They both immediately tensed, Callen getting up on his feet with a slight struggle, Isabella trying to do the same, but giving up with a groan. The captor gave a harsh laugh.

"Relax, I don't quite plan on killing you yet. There shall be time for that later on. My little visit here has quite the opposite purpose." He said as he threw two large Ziploc bags towards Callen before turning on the balls of his feet and leaving.

Callen tore open the bags and felt relieved to find a first aid kit as well as food and water. His eyes met with Isabella's as he said as calmly as he could

"I'm going to have to splint your leg." He told her as calmly as he could. "It's the best we can do until when we can get a doctor to set it properly."

"Yeah, I don't think its so much a matter of when I get to see a doctor than if I ever get to see a doctor." Isabella snapped. She didn't know why she was acting like this; she knew that Callen was only trying to help. But she couldn't help it, all she could think about what the pain, and here he was telling her she would have to face even more of it. "We're totally defenseless against a madman who could kill us at any moment. I got a bullet through my shoulder; he could have put it through my heart." He words tumbled over each other, her thoughts in turmoil. All she could concentrate on was getting away from the pain.

Callen tried to approach her, but Isabella screamed, "LEAVE ME ALONE!" as she tried to scramble back into a corner.

Callen ignored this as he came closer. Isabella glared at him. He reached out a hand, "Isabella, you have to let me-"

"No!" Isabella swung her fist upwards, catching Callen on the jaw. Oh god, what have I done?" she thought frantically as she saw Callen's shocked expression. She didn't know where the punch had come from, but her anger started to deflate as she saw the bruise start to rise up on Callen's jaw. She heard someone sobbing, and it took her a minute to realize it was her. Why did I punch him? He's hurt bad enough already. I know from experience that he'll be wary of me from now on; he'll stay away. To her surprise, she felt strong arms envelop her, carefully staying away from her wounds. She didn't analyze it, just rest her head against his chest and let herself sob.

"Isabella, look at me." She heard Callen say. She looked up, and saw at once that his blue eyes were blazing with determination.

"Don't talk like that." Callen said fiercely. "This is exactly what the captor is trying to get you to feel. I know it seems like we've been here a lifetime, but it's only been two days, give our teams some time. We've got medical supplies here, he's not planning in killing us anytime soon."

Isabella's vision was beginning to blur again, her concentration wavering. However, she had heard Callen and knew that he was right. "Sorry," she muttered with a sigh.

Callen nodded and gently ran his hands through her hair, soothing her. He now felt glad about the first aid course Hetty had made him attend. She had held up so far, but was beginning to show signs of shock. Cold, clammy skin, lethargy, agitation. He checked for any signs that her lungs had suffered injury and was relieved not to find any. Isabella had been keeping pressure on the wound, but her grip was getting weaker along with her exhaustion and he took over, meanwhile creating a makeshift sling and pressure bandage with the materials in the first aid kit.

Isabella felt unconsciousness threaten to overwhelm her as pain racked up her shoulder. She gritted her teeth, forcing herself not to let her instincts take over and knock Callen away. Another wave of pain came as Callen's hand shifted slightly on her shoulder. This time, she couldn't fight it and fell into unconsciousness. As she fell into the darkness, she felt a familiar and hated nightmare take hold of her…

She was in the middle of a battlefield, marching together with a big group of soldiers. Suddenly, a goddess appeared in front of them, and they all stopped in their tracks, staring open-mouthed at her. She was beautiful, long electric blue dress, silky black hair, and war in her eyes. There was a little boy with her, holding a bow and arrow that crackled with electricity. And, somehow, they all just knew that anyone who came in contact with the arrow would die immediately.

"Pick five of them and shoot them." The goddess ordered the little boy.

Panic and desperation surged through them all. It was a panic she had never known before, and her only thoughts were don't pick me. Don't. As she tried to blend in, tried to do anything she could to escape this.

The little boy raised his bow and held power in his hands. Hysteria and confusion overpowered them. Trepidation and dread stripped away their bravery. The boy raised pulled the bowstring and stared her straight in the eye…

Isabella blinked as she slowly woke up. She instantly saw the relief in Callen's face. "Oh thank god you woke up Isabella," Callen whispered as he stared down into her face. Isabella slowly blinked again as the pain and the memories of the last two days came rushing back to her. Her leg was now splinted, and her arm in a neat bandage. At least it doesn't look as scary, she thought to herself.

"I'm okay," she told Callen. "Well, as okay as I can be, but you can stop looking so concerned. Callen still didn't look convinced, so she sighed and changed the subject.

"Think we'll be given a few days to recover?"

"I hope so." Callen replied.

He tried to mask his worry. He had been terrified that she wouldn't wake up, that she would drift into a coma. For hours he had take care of her injuries with the limited supplies that he had, stayed by her side, and hoped for the best. He didn't think that he had ever been so worried about somebody else before, but seeing her lying there in this cold cell with a pale face and ever so subtle rise and fall of her chest, something had changed in him. A new determination to make sure that they both got out of this alive. You normally only care this much about somebody if they're on your team. He told himself. What changed?" He thought back to the last few days. If he considered it carefully, this new feeling had probably begun when she first started to trust him. When she had talked about her grandmother, determined to start the trust between the two of them, knowing it would help. She had looked so vulnerable, but so strong, and so beautiful. He remembered her hair tangled around her face, eyes flashing with so many emotions. She had looked…beautiful.

There was a short silence before the conversation restarted.

"Isabella, I know I've asked you this before, but we can't just keep on waiting. Do you think there's any chance we can escape?"

"I don't mean to be a grouch, but, well, no. Even if we managed to knock out those thugs, this place is enclosed in strong metal everywhere. Plus the captor has set up security camera's in every single corner of this place."

"Then I guess our best hope is our teams finding us. We have no idea what security measures this guy has in place though. He could have lasers surrounding the outside that we don't know about. This is why I hate these situations, our teams could get blown to pieces trying to save us."

Isabella shuddered at the thought and rested her head on Callen's shoulder, snuggling in slightly. She was starting to feel slightly faint. Callen's arm came around to rest on her good shoulder. The movement caused them both pain, but the need for comfort was greater than the pain. They fit perfectly together and both chose to concentrate on that instead of everything else around them.