AN: hey guys!!

so just like last week we've got a heavy chapter ahead of us, it's 6000 words so it's a lot :/ i apologise in advance bc the TW list is quite extensive

and again like last week, the profiler side of things takes place in liv's book. it's from 3.16 onwards so 3.17 here takes place at the same time as 3.17 in liv's book

i hope you guys are all having a good day, and i'll be back next monday! <3

TW:
psychopathic fathers
rampant daddy issues
psychological torture
mentions of murder
mentions of sexual abuse
guns/knives
fucked up family game night
DIY medical care

•

"i think i wait for people to hurt me, and when they do, i feel a certain smugness at being right. and, after that, i just feel pain." - sue zhao

•

The chains were back.

They were the first thing Delilah felt when she came to, again. She'd nodded off after a while of waiting to be gassed, and she could feel the lethargy in her bones that meant she'd been gassed, again.

Delilah opened her eyes, looking over at Ziggy's mattress.

He was wide awake, staring at her with terrified eyes, knees tucked to his chest as he lay in a ball. His eyes flickered over to the corner, then back at Delilah.

Delilah's blood turned cold. She dragged her eyes over to the corner.

"Hey, Izzy," Elliot Milner grinned at her. "Welcome home."

He was sat on the floor, cross legged in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. His hair was greying and grown out to his shoulders, but he looked stronger than he'd been all those years ago. He looked more maniac and psychotic than he had back then, too.

He had only been twenty one when Delilah was born, which was just red flags all around because Delilah's mother had been twenty seven. He was only fifty, now, and he had always been physically active.

It kind of felt like looking into a mirror, in a weird way. Everybody said Delilah looked more like her mother, but she had her father's smile and eyes, and she had more of her father's personality than her mother's.

Delilah was only so scared of turning out like her father because, fundamentally, they were very similar. They both had the same walk, and the same grumpy eyebrows. They had the same tendency to resort to anger when people irritated them. They had the same instinct to lie about everything.

They both fidgeted with their jewellery when they were nervous, and both of them preferred coffee to tea. They were both medicated (now unmedicated), and both had been traumatised by their parents long before the world had the chance.

Delilah hated to admit it, but their survival instincts made them into foils of each other. She was so terrified to become the monster he was because she knew it was all to easy for her to snap.

Gideon had been right about the bio, genetic and social factors defining somebody's psyche. Delilah just hadn't had a psychotic break that sent her head first into a killing spree.

Delilah never wanted to take a life because she could, or because it would be a way of revenge, but she would kill Elliot. She had to.

"What?" Elliot pouted, tilting his head. "No hello for your old man?"

Delilah sat up on the mattress, leaning back against the wall as she watched him. She kept her face impassive, even as her heart pounded in her chest.

"Seriously?" Elliot raised an eyebrow. "You're not even going to speak to me? After all this effort I went through to reunite our family? That's incredible rude. I raised you better than that."

"You didn't raise her at all," Ziggy said.

Delilah's eyes snapped over to him and she shook her head. Ziggy looked panicked, like he'd been unable to stop himself from speaking. Delilah dragged her eyes back over to Elliot, studying his face.

"Well, he's definitely his father's son," Elliot chuckled.

He wasn't mad.

Delilah wasn't buying it.

"Are you your father's daughter, Izzy?" Elliot asked. "Or would you prefer Delilah? Why Delilah, of all names, by the way? You were named after my mother. Did you not love your grandmother?"

Delilah hadn't met any of her grandparents because they were all dead. How could she love someone she'd never met or even really talked about?

"You are being incredibly rude right now, Isobel," Elliot said. "If you don't talk back to me, I'm gonna have to punish you."

Delilah lifted her chin, raising an eyebrow as she glared defiantly at him. Elliot stared at her for a minute before laughing, standing up and clapping his hands as he spun on his foot.

"Oh, you remind me of your mother when you look at me like that!" Elliot said, starting to pace up and down. "She always looked down on me. Always. Nothing I ever did was good enough for her. Dumb bitch. I was the one who raised her kids after James fucking overdosed, and I was the one who made sure she got clean and kept her moods in check. But did she ever thank me? No, no. Nobody ever thanks me."

Delilah watched him pace and mutter to himself, glancing over at Ziggy. He looked just as confused as she was.

"I was sick of it. Sick of it!" Elliot said, turning on his foot again. "No, I never got the respect I deserved. That's why I wanted to do better with you, you know? So you wouldn't end up like her. And you haven't, thank god. Other than your face, but that's fixable with plastic surgery, or a mask."

Delilah blinked at him.

What the actual fuck was wrong with this man?

"No, you're just like me," Elliot continued.

Delilah hated how sick she felt when she realised he was right.

She did this pacing and ranting when she was figuring cases out. Sure, there was a different context, but they had the same ways of getting through the mess of thoughts in their minds.

"You're lucky you never met her, Ziggy," Elliot said. "Violet would've fucked you up. I mean, look at your dad, and Liv, and Izzy. Fuckups! The lot of 'em. I tried to make things better. I wanted them to heal. I had to do what was necessary for our family to stay together, especially after she found out."

Delilah's head snapped over to him.

"What?" Delilah asked.

"She speaks!" Elliot laughed, clapping his hands as he almost rattled on the spot with excitement. "Oh, I knew you couldn't stay mad at me for long!"

"When who found out? Liv?" Delilah asked.

"Your mom," Elliot said, walking over to the mattress.

He crouched down in front of Delilah, patting her leg with a grin. Delilah fought the urge to flinch, even as her skin crawled at the touch.

It was familiar, in a foggy way, and she hated how he still held this power over her.

She didn't push him away, though. She knew it would only end badly for her if she did.

"Yeah, that wasn't a pretty conversation. I don't think you'd remember it, no. Liv took you to stay with Colin and Nora, and she and Elijah were staying with friends from school. Your mom found my little homemade collection of artwork, and she wasn't happy. I did what I had to do," Elliot said. "And we are all truly better for it."

Delilah's eyes burned with tears, throat tight as she stared up at her father.

He didn't have to say it. Delilah knew what he meant. He had killed her mother. The heart attack was not what caused her death. The heart attack may never have happened.

"Eli wouldn't have gotten the chance to tell you about Violet," Elliot said, spinning to look at Ziggy. "No, killed himself before you could even wipe your own ass. He was a bad son, a bad seed, so, I'm not surprised he got Zepp killed."

Delilah looked over at Ziggy as his chains rattled, watching him as he seemed to hold himself back from trying to fight his way out of the chains. Elliot chuckled.

"I take it Isobel has briefed you on my rules," Elliot said. "She's a smart girl, isn't she? My little genius. You're a fast learner. Dylan wasn't a fast learner, at first. Not until I brought Izzy down. I left her upstairs for a few days, and she screamed bloody murder trying to get out. Threatened to smash her own head against the wall until she died if I didn't take her to Dylan. I couldn't have that, could I?"

Delilah remembered that. She had threatened that, and she had screamed for days on end. She hadn't slept. She had actually ended up smacking her head against the concrete fireplace walls until Elliot had dragged her into the basement and thrown her in there from the top of the stairs, locking the door shut behind them.

Maybe that was why she was so fucked up to the extreme that she was.

"He and I used to make deals, y'know?" Elliot said quietly, moving over to Ziggy's mattress to sit on the floor in front of him. "If he behaved, if he was my good little guy, then I wouldn't hurt Izzy. We can make deals like that, too."

"No," Delilah said. "No. If you wanna hurt me, hurt me."

Elliot looked over at Delilah, tilting his head with a small smile.

"Do you remember that little diary that you used to have?" Elliot said, standing up and starting to pace again. "The one I brought you after Dylan died?"

"After you murdered him, yes, I remember," Delilah said.

Her eyes darted around, looking for the diary Elliot had brought her after killing Dylan. She'd left it here when she left, but she had written in it every single day until she escaped. She'd written letters to Liv and Eli in there in case she'd died and they found her body years later.

It wasn't here, but if she found it, she could read about everything that happened in the months after Dylan's death, in the months Delilah still couldn't remember.

"I didn't murder him," Elliot said. "Not like I wanted to. No, that was your fault. You had to convince him to run away, didn't you? He never would've died if he'd stayed put. I was nowhere near done with him. Like you said all those years ago, I fucked up taking him. I intended to make the most out of him while I had him. And, then, I figured, you and he probably would've figured your childhood crush shit out, and I'd become a grandpa, and we could all start fresh together."

"It's not my fault he's dead," Delilah whispered. "And you are fucking delusional if you ever think any kids of mine are your grandkids. You have no brothers, no other living relatives. Your name and bloodline will end with us. I'm going to make damned sure of it."

"Is that so?" Elliot hummed. "We'll see."

Delilah glared up at him.

"Don't look at me like that," Elliot scoffed. "I could've killed both of you and I haven't, out of the kindness of my heart."

"Please, just fucking do it," Delilah said. "Just fucking end this and kill us."

Elliot blinked. Delilah could feel Ziggy's eyes burning into the side of her head, but she didn't look at him.

"I don't want you to die. That would be too quick. No, we are going to catch up on the past six thousand and six days we've been apart!" Elliot declared.

Delilah stared at him for a minute, silently grateful he'd fallen into her trap and given away more information in his shock at her demand.

She'd escaped back into town on the thirteenth of May, 1991. She had been in the woods for a few days while running away, so, if she'd disappeared on the early hours of the thirteen of October 2007, then that had been five thousand, nine hundred and ninety seven days away from Elliot.

If they'd been apart for six thousand and six days, Delilah knew she had nine days to make up for. Some of them had been in the woods after she escaped, because she had seen the moon rise and fall for a while and had to sleep when the stars disappeared, but she could've also been here for days.

Did the team even know by now?

JJ would've told them. Liv would've been clued in, and Dave, and Colin and Nora, and the rest of the team should be suspicious she wasn't back or texting them, yet. Maybe they were in town looking for her.

Delilah didn't think they'd find her and Ziggy. Maybe they didn't even know Ziggy was with her.

"Are you sure it's because you want us to catch up? Or is it because you're too much of a fucking coward to do it?" Delilah said, leaning forward as best as she could in the chains. "You couldn't do it back then, could you?"

Elliot stood up, crossing to stand in front of her mattress. He crouched down in front of her, tilting his head to the side as he looked at her.

"I never wanted to kill you," Elliot said. "There is nothing cowardly in me admitting that. I may be a killer, Isobel, but I never hurt you. You could've said no."

"So, locking me down here, torturing my best friend in front of me, killing him in front of me, and then keeping me locked up with his corpse was just, what, you in a silly, goofy mood?" Delilah asked.

"I can't help the way I am," Elliot said. "You study psychology. You know why I'm like this."

"In all my years of studying psychology and dealing with the worst of humanity, you are the one person I've never been able to understand," Delilah whispered.

"Huh," Elliot said. "I'm in a league all on my own!" he cackled.

Delilah hated him.

She hated him with everything she was.

"You're a monster," Delilah whispered.

"Takes one to know one," Elliot said. "We're the same, Izzy. All it took for me was one thing to send me head first into what I am. That's all it'll take for you, too."

"I didn't kill anyone after you killed Dylan," Delilah said quietly.

"No, but you were very different back then," Elliot sighed. "Though, one thing is still the same. You're in love again! Jennifer, is it? Pretty blonde girl? Big blue eyes like Dylan's?"

Delilah's jaw clenched.

"I know Olivia likes her, and I bet that everybody else loves her. Has Ziggy met her? Ziggy, have you met Jennifer?" Elliot asked, looking over at Ziggy.

Ziggy shook his head slowly.

"That's a shame," Elliot sighed, looking back at Delilah. "I would like to meet her, myself. I've always wanted a daughter-in-law. Once it became clear I wouldn't have a son-in-law, that is. I dropped the ball on that one, huh?" Elliot chuckled. "But this necklace, this isn't your normal necklace. No. Jennifer has your necklace, the one that's a star, and this," Elliot picked up the heart around Delilah's throat, "Is Jennifer's, yes?"

Chains be damned, Delilah needed him to get away from her, needed him to stop talking about Dylan and JJ. She swung her head forward, squeezing her eyes shut as she headbutted Elliot in the nose, sending him sprawling back onto the floor as Ziggy yelped in panic. Her head spun with the pain, but she blinked her eyes open and braced herself for his retaliation.

Elliot sat up, cupping his nose. Blood dribbled through his fingers, dripping down onto the dusty floor with audible slaps. He stared at Delilah for a moment before laughing.

"Oh, Jennifer is a touchy subject for you. I see. Funny. You had more of a reaction to her than you did to Dylan," Elliot said.

"He's long dead. You can't hurt him anymore," Delilah said.

"I'm not going to hurt Jennifer, either," Elliot said. "No, I may be many things, Izzy, but I am not an idiot. I'm hardly going to take a trip to town to abduct your pretty little girlfriend. No, I'm not going to touch her. Say thank you, dad, for my kindness."

Delilah stayed silent.

He wasn't going to take a trip into town. They were either here, or he suspected they were here. He could've gone to check and come back. He'd stayed hidden that long, so, Delilah wouldn't be surprised if he had left to see and made it back in one piece.

Elliot studied her for a minute, green eyes burning into the side of her face.

"Say thank you, Isobel."

"Fuck you."

She could aggravate him. She knew he wouldn't hurt JJ, 'cause he wouldn't get anywhere near the girl without getting shot by the FBI, which he also knew. And, while Elliot was a lot of things, he wasn't going to hurt Ziggy over Delilah aggravating him.

He would hurt Delilah, because he knew that JJ and Dylan had no weight against Ziggy, because he knew that Delilah had already told Ziggy his rules, because he knew that Delilah had a fighting chance, this time. He needed to beat it out of her if he wanted to remain in control, and he knew she had the be the first to break.

Ziggy would give in if Delilah did, and he would end up dead. Delilah may end up dead.

Elliot's jaw clenched, but he dropped his glare within a second, sighing as he wiped the blood off his mouth.

"I can taste my blood," Elliot mused.

Delilah couldn't fucking stand this man. He was unhinged. Completely unhinged.

Elliot sighed, getting to his feet. He stared down at Delilah for a moment before swinging his leg forward in a kick aimed at her face. Delilah barely managed to yank her body to the side to avoid it, wincing at the strain on her shoulder as she twisted in the chains.

Elliot laughed, turning to walk towards the door.

"Oh, I've missed you and your reflexes, Izzy! It's so good for us to be back together, again," Elliot said.

Delilah rolled her eyes, but watched Elliot open the door and step outside. He pulled the door shut, the locks clicking into place, leaving them in utter silence.

"What the absolute fuck is wrong with him?" Ziggy asked.

"Where do you want me to start?" Delilah muttered, moving herself back to lean against the wall.

"Is Jennifer JJ?" Ziggy asked.

"Yeah."

"Do you think she knows we're here?"

"I hope so, kid."

"Why can you headbutt him but I have to follow his rules?" Ziggy asked.

"Because he's not gonna hurt me like..." Delilah trailed off. "Please don't make me say it."

"I know what you mean," Ziggy murmured. "And he never gave me the chance to say no. I didn't want it to happen."

"I know," Delilah said quietly, looking over at him. "You're just a kid, Ziggy. None of this is your fault."

"Do you... Do you know?" Ziggy said quietly.

"Do I know what?" Delilah asked.

"He said you never said no," Ziggy said.

Delilah blinked at him.

Elliot had said that, but that didn't make sense. That was what he'd said to Dylan after he hurt him. He hadn't said that to her.

Ziggy exhaled, looking up at the ceiling.

"I didn't realise being kidnapped would be so much sitting around," Ziggy said.

"It isn't," Delilah said, slowly moving her eyes to the door. "He'll be back."

•

•

Ziggy was asleep. His eyelids fluttered against bruised cheeks, gentle puffs of breath falling from his split lips. Delilah couldn't sleep.

For one, she needed the bathroom. For two, she had the worst migraine. For three, her limbs were aching from being held in an awkward position in the shortened chains, and she couldn't get comfortable on the mattress.

And, to make matters worse, she felt like she was on the verge of a panic attack that wasn't quite sure whether to happen or not.

She didn't know how long she'd been down here. She didn't know how long ago she'd eaten or been gassed, or woken up from being gassed. She didn't know how long ago Elliot had left, or how long they were going to be alone for.

She needed a distraction, but Ziggy needed to sleep.

So, Delilah took to trying to break free of her chains, which she knew was useless because she'd never broken free, before.

The chains were welded into hooks built into the concrete walls.  He could pull them tighter to keep her movements limited by wrapping the excess chains around a piece of metal on the wall Delilah couldn't reach without being unchained.

She couldn't help but study the latches around her wrists, though.

They were tight, but she had a feeling that she might be able to slip out of the ones on her wrists if she dislocated her thumbs and didn't mind likely tearing all of the skin off her hand and making a bloody mess.

And, even then, she wouldn't be able to break free of the ones on her ankles without cutting the chain, which she couldn't do without bolt cutters, and even that was a stretch because these chains were thicker than she'd remembered. She was well and truly stuck where she was, and she was going to be too weak to fight, soon, if she wasn't already. The room was getting colder, and it wasn't helping her feel any more reassured.

The lock clicked on the door and Delilah turned her head, watching her father slip inside and close the door behind him, a plate in hand.

"Didn't gas you for this one," Elliot said, crossing the room to put the plate on the mattress. "Turkey twizzlers. Your favourite." he grinned.

Delilah didn't even try and touch the plate. She hated turkey twizzlers.

"Izzy, I'm trying, here, okay?" Elliot said quietly, sitting down on the floor across from her. "Can we please just have a civil conversation?"

Delilah scoffed.

"I'm in chains. Nothing about this is civil, and I have nothing to say to you," Delilah said.

"I want you to understand why I have to do this," Elliot said. "Why I've always done it."

"Because you're a pedophile and a sexual sadist," Delilah said. "That's why you've always done it. Because your brain is fucked up."

"So is yours," Elliot said.

"I've never wanted to rape children," Delilah said flatly. "Not the same thing, man."

Elliot sighed, rocking back and forth slightly where he sat.

"I really never wanted you to be involved in this, when I started it," Elliot said quietly. "I fucked up taking Dylan, I know that, but he reminded me so much of Eli, and I couldn't help it. He was so easy to get. He trusted me, and I betrayed that trust, and that made it so much better."

Delilah closed her eyes, trying to mentally block his voice out of her head. She didn't want to hear about why he picked Dylan as a victim, about how easy Dylan was to trick. He was so easy to trick because he thought he could trust Delilah's father, because he trusted Delilah, and that was what got him killed, in the end.

"I want to make a deal with you," Elliot said.

Delilah squinted at him. She didn't trust him one bit.

"I won't hurt Ziggy for two days, at all, if you play a little game with me," Elliot said.

"What game?" Delilah asked.

"An old time favourite of ours," Elliot grinned, reaching into the waistband of his pants and pulling a Colt Python out from behind of his back. "Russian roulette."

"Are you actually going to let me kill myself this time? Or are you gonna crap out like you did when I was a kid?" Delilah asked.

"Oh, nobody is dying in this game," Elliot said. "No, you won't be shooting yourself in the head, and you won't be playing with me. You'll be playing with the kid. You get to choose."

"I could just shoot you," Delilah said.

"Oh, that's why I'll be the one doing the shooting. You're just the one making the calls," Elliot said.

Delilah knew what she was going to do. She would shoot herself over Ziggy, and Ziggy wouldn't get hurt for two days. She'd probably end up dead in a few days from whatever wound she'd be inflicted with, unless he brought her stuff to clean and stitch it, but, even then, she couldn't guarantee her survival with that.

At least she'd let Liv give her a refresher course on suturing after she almost got blown up on that terrorism case a while back. She had a chance of being okay, and she knew she had no real choice in playing this game with him.

If she said no, he'd just shoot her, anyway. She might as well play his game and buy Ziggy some safety.

"So, do we have a deal?" Elliot asked.

Delilah nodded.

"Okay. Let's play."

Elliot grinned, producing a single bullet from his pocket as he stood up, sliding it into the chamber and spinning it, clicking it into place. He backed away, turning the safety off as he stood between Delilah and Ziggy.

"Oh, one more rule," Elliot grinned. "You can only say yourself once. Pick wisely, baby Izzy."

Delilah's jaw clenched.

"Ziggy," she said.

Elliot fired at Ziggy, the gun firing a blank that echoed around the room and stung Delilah's ears. Ziggy stirred at the noise, eyelids fluttering as he blinked himself awake. He pushed himself up off the mattress, looking between Delilah and Elliot in confusion.

"Ah, good morning, Ziggy! We're playing Russian roulette. Stay still, now. You don't wanna move and get shot somewhere deadly, do you?" Elliot said.

Ziggy's eyes went wide and he froze, staring at Delilah. She didn't look at him.

He hadn't woken up in time to hear the rules. He would just think she was picking him to die over herself. He was going to hate her for this, which was probably what Elliot wanted when he picked this rule.

Elliot knew all too well she would know when the bullet was in the chamber. He knew she would always pick herself to be hurt over the kid. It was mind games, psychological warfare, and Delilah was a veteran at it.

Ziggy had no idea what he was dealing with.

"Pick again," Elliot said, loading the chamber.

"Ziggy."

Elliot fired at Ziggy, the boy yelping as he ducked his head down. Another blank.

"Lucky!" Elliot laughed, loading the chamber again.

It was empty. Delilah could hear the emptiness from across the room.

"Ziggy," Delilah said.

Elliot fired at him. Another blank.

Three down, three to go.

She knew, from many times of playing this, that her father typically had the bullet in the fifth or sixth chamber. He liked to play the game for as long as he could before snatching the sweet release of death right from Delilah's hands.

Elliot loaded the chamber again.

"Ziggy."

Another blank.

Ziggy cowered under his arms, chest heaving with sobs he tried to stifle. Delilah felt sick to her stomach, but she didn't take her eyes away from her father as he loaded the chamber.

This time, she heard the bullet load into the barrel. This was the fifth shot, her shot, and he was going to shoot her.

"Me," Delilah said.

She braced herself, watching how Elliot aimed the gun at her for a moment before lowering it. Delilah raised an eyebrow, watching him as he walked over to her, crouching down to stare her in the face.

"Smart girl," Elliot whispered.

With his left hand, he yanked a knife from his belt, stabbing it into Delilah's left thigh before she could even register the movement. She did manage to stay silent, the ache quickly spreading through her leg.

Ziggy wasn't silent. He screamed like he was the one that had been stabbed.

The pain pulsed into fire hot burning when he yanked the knife back out and moved away, blood spilling out of the wound and over her pyjama pants, dripping down onto the mattress. Delilah bit down on her tongue until she tasted blood in her mouth, forcing herself to keep staring at her father as she pressed her hands against the wound, skin slippery with her own blood.

"Didn't even flinch," Elliot commented, eyeing the knife covered in her blood. "How fascinating."

He wiped his finger over the blood stained blade, sucking his finger clean as he stood up. Delilah's stomach turned at the sight, watching her father cross towards the door and open it.

He picked up a first-aid kit and a bottle of vodka, walking into the room and tossing them lightly on the mattress beside Delilah. He grabbed onto the chains around the wrap in the wall, pulling them tighter and yanking Delilah's arms above her head.

Her thigh ached at the lack of pressure, but Elliot unwound the chains to give her some more leeway, backing away from her. Delilah dropped her hands back down over the stab wound, exhaling shakily at the pain.

"Stitch yourself up," he said, crossing back to the door. "Congratulations, Ziggy. She just bought you two days of no pain. Say thank you to your aunt Isobel."

"Thank you, aunt Isobel," Ziggy whispered out between heaving sobs.

"Ah, I love family bonding. Reminds me of when I was young with my dad. Such fun times. I can't wait for us to have another family game night," Elliot sighed happily, closing the door and locking it behind him as he left.

Delilah counted to sixty in her head, just to be sure he was definitely gone, and then let go of her leg with one hand to grab the first aid kit and the vodka. She twisted the cap off the vodka, chugging down about a quarter of the bottle until all she could feel was the burning in her throat.

She took a deep breath, setting it on the floor and opening the first aid kit.

Needle and proper suture thread, gauze, bandages. That was it.

Delilah shook her head slowly, picking up the vodka to chug another few mouthfuls down. She shifted in her pants until they were pulled down enough to see the stab wound.

It didn't look like it had hit any major veins, and it wasn't that deep. The knife had only been four inches, at most, though it really was too quick to see more than a glimpse of it.

Either way, it wasn't going to kill her. It would be an infection that killed her.

She turned the bottle, pouring some of the vodka onto her hands and rubbing it in, then pouring it over the needle. She then tipped the bottle, dumping the last of the alcohol over the stab wound and sending shooting pains jolting up and down her thigh.

"What are you doing?" Ziggy whispered. 

"Stitching it up," Delilah muttered, grabbing the thread to put through the needle.

She took another deep breath, not hesitating as she pushed the needle through her skin to close the wound. She worked slowly and carefully, remembering Liv telling her that her suture job last time had almost left her maimed. Her skin was stained red with her own blood still leaking, jolts of pain shaking through her body that made her take little breaks to steady herself before starting another stitch.

She would leave here maimed, too, but she was going to do everything to keep herself alive until then.

"You kept saying my name," Ziggy said quietly.

"Yeah, well, I could only say my name once, so, saved it for the real thing, y'know? Would you rather be bleeding now?" Delilah snarked.

She felt the guilt in her bones as soon as she looked at the terrified look on his face. She forgot how overwhelming this was the first time it happened, forgot how numb she had become to things like this. She forgot how irritable she could become down here, and her withdrawals were bringing on even more mood swings than she normally had.

"I'm sorry," Delilah said honestly, meeting Ziggy's eyes. "For snapping, and for scaring you. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Ziggy whispered, curling himself into a ball on his mattress, the chains rattling as he moved. "Are you gonna die?"

Delilah tied off the last stitch, wincing as she tugged her leg so it was half bent, wiggling her toes to make sure the blood was still circulating through her body.

"I hope not," Delilah murmured, grabbing the gauze.

She put it over the wound, grabbing the bandages and wrapping them around the gauze to hold it into place. She tightened it as much as she could to make sure the wound would stay packed and heal better.

She hoped it would, anyway.

"This is just going to get worse, isn't it?" Ziggy whispered.

"Not for you," Delilah said, tugging her pants back up and leaning against the wall. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

Her thigh ached dully, but a quick glance at the blood and a mental calculation later, Delilah was sure she hadn't even lost close to a litre of blood. She could survive this quite easily, providing she didn't develop an infection.

God, she fucking hoped she didn't develop an infection. They were both dead if Delilah was, and that much was becoming obvious to Ziggy as he stared at the bandaged stab wound.

"I don't want you to pick yourself over me. I can take it. I'm not scared of him," Ziggy said.

Delilah fixed him with a knowing look as she grabbed the needle again.

"I'm literally shitting my pants because he's fucking terrifying," Ziggy corrected himself. "Still, though. I don't want you to pick yourself over me."

"Don't feel guilty about it," Delilah said. "I would pick myself over anyone. You're not special. I really love being stabbed."

Ziggy cracked a smile at her, Delilah chuckling tiredly. Ziggy couldn't help the small laugh that fell from his lips, either.

"We're going to be so fucked up if we survive this," Ziggy mumbled. "Do you think your team is really here? Do you think they'll save us?"

Delilah shrugged.

"They're good at their jobs."

"He's just better," Ziggy said.

Delilah shifted on the mattress, wincing as the pain ached through her body, though it was getting slightly numb, hopefully from the alcohol.

Truthfully, she didn't think Elliot was better than the team. He was better at hiding, yes, but the stakes were so different this time. Liv would know where Elliot was holding them once they figured out they were gone, and then it was just searching the woods until they actually found the cabin.

The file Elle had given her was still in Nora's house. Dylan's door and window would be open. Delilah's bedroom window would be open. Her front door would be unlocked. They could quite easily piece together a timeline and figure out what had happened.

And they had Gideon's profile to go off, even if it was minimal in terms of what they normally had to go off.

But Delilah remembered her voicemail from Gideon.

Nobody was going to save her except for herself, just like last time. Not Gideon, not Hotch, not Dave or Liv or JJ or anyone on the team. Delilah would have to be the one to end things, and she had no choice because she wasn't just making a decision over her own life.

She had Ziggy to worry about, and she wasn't losing another little boy that she loved at the hands of her father.

She had to get them out of this cabin. She was the only person who had ever made it out of this cabin alive, and she intended to keep up with her track record of surviving.

A needle wouldn't do much, but it was the only thing resembling a weapon she had. So, Delilah tucked the needle down the side of the mattress between the wall, knowing Elliot wouldn't look there because of the dirt that had accumulated.

She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes as she thought of ways to get Elliot out of the way, but a way to get them out of this basement, too.

There was no point killing him if they were still in chains. Neither could get them off their ankles, and Ziggy said the keys remained upstairs when Elliot came down.

But she had to make a plan, so Delilah racked her brain for anything that could help.

She came up empty.

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