There was a searing pain in her side, her head, and her abdomen, and her hands felt like a thousand needles had poked into her skin. Eyes closed, she wondered for a moment if she was dead or alive. The last thing she remembered was the tumble to the roof of the car, the glass beneath her hands and in her eyes, on her face had pressed sharply into her skin. She remembered seeing the driver; she remembered surrendering to the blackness.

Her eyes were closed as she felt herself awakening; the fog of the nightmare she had been living was becoming clearer. Before she opened her eyes, she tried to move, noting that her hands were no longer at her waist, but were on her side. Her shackles had been removed, but there was something soft around her arms, something against her wrists that was holding her down.

Her eyes popped open, and with a sharp intake of breath, she felt her heart begin to thump in panic. Over her head there was a roof of patched wood. The light that shimmered through the spaces in the rustic walls indicated that it was daytime, and that the place she was being held was worn. Before she made a sound, she heard the sounds of birds, and could feel a light breeze pushing through the warped walls of the cabin. She lifted her head slowly and felt a rush of nausea hit her, sending her head back hard against the pillow beneath her. She could feel the ache of whiplash in her neck, and the sharp pin pricks of pain all over from her fall against the car's broken glass. She tried to move her hands, but they were bound tightly at her side, as were her ankles to the bed.

Turning her head, she saw a small water basin, with a brown cloth hanging loosely on its edge. It was damp, indicating that someone had been there recently. Beside the basin, she spied a set of tweezers, and several rolls of gauze and tape. The wind seemed to pick up outside for a moment, and Brennan listened for a moment for any movement outside of the room. She heard a soft clicking sound and the door creaked open slowly. Brennan wasn't ready to give away the fact that she was awake, so she kept her eyes closed.

She heard movement in the room, and kept her concentration on the sound of whoever it was moving around her bed. They paused at her bedside for a moment, looking down on her face. She felt two fingers against her skin, softly, pushing a stray hair from her brow. She wanted to open her eyes, but chose not to. She didn't want to frighten her captor. It was in her best interest to let this person find her awake, rather than her cause a stir by waking up when their face was inches from hers. She heard the steps of the person move to the basin, and the sound of water being squeezed from the cloth. She then heard them walk slowly toward the doorway once again.

The door didn't close, and her senses were on high alert. Holding her breath, she felt the weight of hands on the bed, and could feel her pulse begin to race. Then she felt someone's hot, damp breath over her skin, and her skin crawled when the breath came closer. Suddenly, she let out a yelp, as something warm and wet sloshed against her face. Her eyes shot open, and the dog that had just licked her was happily attempting a second lick. She flipped her head to the side, wanting and needing to wipe the black lab's slobber from her face when she heard the sound of a man shooing him away.

"Andy, no! No…" The man exclaimed, pulling the dog's collar, she turned he head at the voice, and her eyes widened in surprise. He reached out and carefully ran a dry cloth against her face as she shied from his touch. "I'm sorry." He said softly. "I'm sorry."

It was then that everything came crashing into reality.

"Oliver?" Brennan exclaimed.