For those of you who haven't read Empty yet, go check it out, or you would miss out on the story line in Forgotten.

"What do you mean you don't remember? Your name." Bond stared her in the eyes.

"I… I don't really remember anything… apart from…" She whispered, shocked by the intensity of his glare.

"Apart from?" Bond started to really dig. He took out a recorder, turned it on and placed it on the table. "What do you remember?"

"The men… they," She drew in a long, pained breath. "They tied me up, on the pole, the other girls were right next to me. My hands - they were above my head. I wasn't tall enough. My arms…" She shuddered from the thought. "They felt like they were ripping from my body. There were cramps in my legs. I don't know how long I was left there."

Meanwhile, M was in yet another brutal interrogation.

"Tell me what you know and we'll stop the pain. You may even be able to walk again." An agent pulled on the knife sticking out of the man's bloody leg. His hands were tied behind his back, sweating, bleeding and obviously in agony.

The girl found herself in the shower, hot, steaming water pouring over her body. She traced a finger over the bruises and cuts. Nothing that won't heal in a couple of weeks. But it's the mental scarring, the psychological trauma, it was the shadow that lingered behind her that disturbed her the most.

Bond could not believe he agreed to do this. He was sitting on a stool, facing the door, while the girl was naked, showering behind him. She was awfully silent. The only sound in the room was droplets of water falling rapidly onto the tiles below. He had to admit the temptation to peek… there was a feeling… to familiar to him. He wished he could do something to comfort her. He closed his eyes to listen to the calming rhythm.

She savoured the feeling of water to her skin, the freshness could've been said to be long forgotten. By now, the skin on the tips of her fingers all crinkled, but she didn't give a damn. She allowed the water engulf her and closed her eyes. A jolt of pain. She shot her eyes open. Whenever she closed her eyes, she would remember the pain. She would remember how she was tied up, beaten, humiliated. How she was violated and tortured and broken. But she could no longer remember who she was. She turned off the tap.

James opened his eyes, surprised by the sudden silence, and by instinct, he turned around. On the girls body, there were marks and patterns spread all over her body. Beautiful colours of red and purple. But the story behind it wasn't. The marks were part of her pain, part of her memory when she was there. They made up the little that she remembered. The agent wasn't aware of how long he was staring. The girl was blushing furiously, frantically trying to cover her body with her hands. Bond instantly turned back around, mentally slapping himself. You little shit.

"Um…" She croaked weakly. "Mister Bond… could you please pass me the towel?" It was obvious that she was entirely embarrassed.

"No problem. Sorry for staring…" Bond quickly made up an excuse. "I just wanted to work out what medical help I could give you." He mumbled as he handed over the towel. She wiped her hair and swiftly wrapped the towel around her body.

Bond didn't see the girl smiling silently. This man is a good man. He didn't hurt you. He didn't shoot you. He offered you food and help. Try and help him do his job. "Is there anything I can help with - I'll try to tell you what I remember…" She breathed softly…

The girl never ceased to amaze the agent. He could sense her movements behind him, and it took every last bit of his self control to stop himself from turning around again. He could not believe that she had just offered to help him. In the state she was in… maybe she's just making fun of you. Bond quickly dismissed the idea as he sighed. Or maybe she's really that… good natured. Bond instantly saw the problem. She could be the one to light his fire again. But he didn't want to - his extinguished state meant he could do his job. All his hard work - all the training, the physical build up, his mental preparation. Everything would go down the drain.