Amanda woke up shivering – she knew it had to be sometime in the middle of the night, because the light from beneath the door had vanished, and it was unbelievably cold. She groaned as she moved her fragile body from the spot it was lying, to sit up against the hard, rocky, nail-infested wall. She tried to make herself warmer by bringing the blanket further up her arms, and tucking it behind her shoulders. But it wasn't any good – the blanket was too short, so it barely covered her toes. She sighed as she brought the blanket down again, thinking she would rather keep her feet rather than lose them due to frost bite or something along those lines. She felt around beside her, her hands landing on the bottle of water, which she had almost finished. She couldn't believe she was thinking this, but she hoped the man would be back the next day to give her another bottle. She brought it to her lips, and drained the last droplets of liquid into her mouth. She let out a small, frustrated cry when she realised it was all gone. How could this be happening to me? She thought, as she buried her head into her hands. She wished she was someplace else – somewhere where there was light, and warmth. Somewhere where there was someone to hold her. She wondered if anyone was even out looking for her – sure she would have missed a day of work, but how was that suspicious? She had just gone through a trail to put away her attacker, put away the man who had threatened to kill her – they could have thought she needed another day to get back on track. Oh I hope Olivia knows that something is wrong. I hope she realises that I'm missing. That thought alone made Amanda wonder if Olivia had thought she had taken a day off, because she couldn't bear to see Olivia after what had happened the night before. She would have been half right – Amanda probably would have ignored her completely if she actually had the opportunity to work with her again. She had broken her heart. It was the most horrible feeling in the world – at least that was what Amanda had thought before she was hit over the head with something heavy, drugged with chloroform, kicked and punched in her already injured abdomen, and raped. She didn't think that anything else could be worse – except for death, which she thought might happen if she could even last another night in the hell hole that she was in.

"No, NO! I said brown hair, not black! You've got to get the details right, or the sketch will be useless," Olivia snapped at the poor young man who had been brought in to do a sketch of the two men that Olivia had seen. The camera tape had been useless in the investigation – all it proved, was that, Amanda was indeed taken from her apartment, only moments after Olivia had left. It seemed like her kidnappers had worked out where all the cameras were hidden around the building, and had avoided them. There was no way of identifying them, except for Olivia's memory. "Sorry, Ma'am," the artist mumbled, as he started again on the sketch, this time giving the man brown hair. "He had a scar on his right eyebrow, just at the end there," Olivia told him, pointing to the spot where she remembered seeing a scar. "It was small, like it had been cut with a razor blade while shaving or something," Olivia described, trying her hardest to give every detail that she remembered.

"That's it. That's the first man. Fantastic," Olivia blurted out once the man had finished sketching the scar. She took the piece of paper from the table, and walked over to the whiteboard, and placed the paper on it. "Suspect number one – he seemed to me to be the more dominant one of the two. I remember him not seeming to happy when I smiled at him," Olivia commented to the male detectives, who were going through Amanda's LUDs, her voice almost sounding dangerous as she mentioned the smile. Even thinking about it made her want to vomit – she had smiled at her girlfriend's kidnappers. Not that she could call her, her girlfriend anymore.

Olivia took a deep breath as she tried to hold back the tears that threatened to escape her once more, and returned to the table once again, ready to describe the second suspect. "He was a lot scrawnier looking – a baby face really. He had blue eyes, dirty blonde hair. His nose was rather crooked, like it had been broken before," Olivia described, closing her eyes as she tried to remember what he looked like. Even though she was a cop, and she was trained to remember every detail of a suspect, it was proving rather hard to remember every little detail – now she truly knew how the victims felt as they tried to describe their attackers. "His forehead was rather high – I remember thinking it must have been a difficult childhood for him to have a bigger forehead than his school mates," Olivia commented, as opened her eyes. "His face was more round," Olivia offered, as she looked down at the drawing of the second suspect. When she was confident that the sketch was finished, and that was in fact a good replica of the suspect, she thanked the man for his services, and put the picture up next to the other one of the whiteboard. "And here is the second one. These bastards have Amanda held captive – I hope none of you expect to get any sleep tonight, because nobody's going home until I find her," Olivia commented, realising the slip of her tongue the moment she said it. "We. Until we find her," She corrected herself, clearing her throat as she turned away from the accusing eyes of her co-workers.

Cragen had now joined in on the meeting; his eyes were drawn on Olivia, knowing full well what she meant. Only moments earlier he had gone over the tapes to double check for anything that the others may have missed, and had noticed how angry Olivia had entered when she got out of the elevator on Amanda's floor, and how upset she was when she left. It didn't take a genius to know what had happened – especially when he had noticed how wet Amanda's face had looked when he saw her knocked out in the elevator, and it wasn't due to her blood. He was concerned that Olivia was taking this far too personally, blaming it on herself, for what had happened. He wanted to make she was going to be okay, to work this case. But he knew that Olivia was far too stubborn to walk away from this – especially because she loved Amanda far too much to let anyone else come to her rescue. He could see it in her face, saw how much she was hurting, how much she longed for Amanda; he knew love when he saw it. He had the same look on his face towards his wife, when she was still alive. It actually pained him to see Olivia like this, but there wasn't much he could do – there was very little evidence that could help find the whereabouts of Amanda, and there weren't any useable finger prints from her apartment, or the elevator due to the kidnappers wearing gloves. CSU proved no help, only in verifying that Olivia had indeed been in Amanda's apartment.

"Run the faces through the facial recognition software– if they have a record, their faces should be in the system," Olivia ordered Amaro, who merely nodded his head, and walked up to the whiteboard to take down the two sketches. "Anything of use in her LUDs?" She questioned Fin, who merely shook his head. "Other than yours, and a couple of Atlanta numbers, nothing," Fin answered. He looked up at Olivia curiously. "Unless you want me to run the Atlanta numbers? Someone could have followed her here," Fin suggested, remembering what Amanda had told him about why she transferred. Olivia nodded her head. "That could be a possibility," Olivia mused, her mind automatically thinking about Amanda's first stroke of bad luck with the deputy chief of the Atlanta Police Department. "How many numbers are there?" Olivia asked, walking over to the table where Fin and John were still sitting. "Two," Fin answered, moving the paper towards her, and pointed to the two different numbers. "There have been several calls to and from both of them, from the moment she arrived here in New York," Fin told Olivia, as she looked over them. Olivia merely nodded her head. "Run them, see who the numbers belong too," She ordered as she moved away from the table. She turned to see Cragen watching her.

"Anything you spot on the tapes that we didn't?" Olivia questioned, making sure she didn't slip her tongue once again by adding a personal account to the question. Cragen shook his head. "Nothing. CSU's report came back – no useful fingerprints in any of the locations. The blood is all hers, I'm afraid, only one blood type," Cragen informed her, regretfully. Olivia took another deep breath, trying to take the news not so personally. "How much did she lose? I only caught a glimpse of it before I called you," Olivia asked him, wanting to know if it serious enough to be life threatening. "Not enough to suggest a serious injury – just a small knock to the head to knock her out, I presume – there was also traces of CHCI3, so she was drugged," Cragen told her, knowing that she wouldn't be happy if he left anything out. Olivia nodded her head, taking in the information carefully. Poor Amanda. I shouldn't have left you alone. I should have stayed with you – it was obvious you were upset. And I made you that way. Olivia blinked a couple of times before Cragen put his hand on her right shoulder. "This is not your fault, Olivia – I doubt the attackers would have stopped their plans just because you were there. They would have probably taken you too, or worse, killed you, because you would have been in their way," Cragen told her, and Olivia knew he was right, but she still couldn't help feeling like she was to blame. "I know," Olivia commented, nodding her head, trying to keep the tears in. "I just want to find her. Alive," She stated, taking Cragen's hand in hers. "Thank you – I know you're just looking out for me, but right now I need to focus on finding her. I'll be fine once we get her to safety. I won't rest until she's in my arms again," Olivia said as she patted his hand, gratefully.

With that in mind, Olivia let go of Don's hand and turned to face Amaro. "Any hits on the faces?"

Life can be so unfair sometimes. Everything could be so great one minute, then an instant it could turn upside down. One minute Amanda was happy, and then the next she finds herself locked up in a small room with no light or way to get out. One minute she was in love, then the next she was crying her eyes out because she just lost the one person who made her the happiest girl in the world. One minute she was pure, in terms of innocence, and now she felt dirty, guilty and broken. One minute she was being fussy because of overcooked, dried out chicken, and now it was all she wanted. Amanda never realised how lucky she had been in terms of her life until those moments. She had everything she could ask for – if only she hadn't gambled away all her money, then she wouldn't have had to borrow from Murphy. If she hadn't of gambled, then she wouldn't be staring into the dark right now, listening to her stomach growl at her, because she was so darn starving. She wouldn't be sitting there, in the dark room, afraid to move because of her broken body. She was sure one of her rips was broken – it was hard to breathe, with a sharp pain always erupting when she did so. Her inner thighs felt bruised and broken – she wasn't even sure she had stopped bleeding down there, since it was so dark. She was afraid to go back to sleep, as she didn't want the man to come in finding her vulnerable. She felt disgusted just thinking that his stuff was sitting inside of her, knowing full well that he didn't wear any condom when he forced himself into her. She knew the odds of falling pregnant – if Olivia didn't find her within 48 hours, she would probably be doomed. It was just her luck that her body was ovulating. Amanda felt sick just thinking about it. She stared into the darkness, wondering what time it was, wishing that she had been wearing a watch when she was attacked. It had a light on it – a pretty powerful one too – for a watch. It would have been a lot easier to see where she was, and what surrounded her. She was sure there would be more than a bucket and a bottle of water left for her. But there was no point dwelling on what could have been. She had no watch. She had no light. She couldn't even move. So there was no point doing anything, but wait for the only light that she could use – the one that signalised a new day.

I need to pee, Amanda thought to herself as she opened her eyes after drifting off again. She really didn't want too, but she was just so darn tired that she had no choice. She could see the light pouring in from under the door, so at least she could see where the bucket was. She forced her body up from the ground, and crawled over to the vomit infested bucket. She removed her slacks, wincing in pain as she did so. She glanced down at her legs – blood was everywhere. She cringed at the sight of it – if anyone was to see this, they would automatically think it was her time of month – but it wasn't. This blood was due to being torn apart by a monster. She almost started to cry once more, as she held her body above the bucket, peeing into it – but she didn't because she heard something from outside the door. She quickly finished peeing, pulled her pants back on, and moved back to the blanket, and brought it up to her shoulders, as if it was meant to protect her. The door bursted open, and a man came inside, holding a plate of food. It was a different man – he had blonde hair. He seemed a lot smaller too, like he was gentle. He glanced at Amanda, but his stare didn't last long. If Amanda didn't know any better, she would have guessed that this man actually felt sorry for her. But this man kidnapped her along with the other monster – so why should he feel sorry? He walked over to her and passed her the plate. On it was two pieces of bread, and something that she could only guess was scrambled eggs. "Thank you," Amanda choked, taking the plate from him, with trembling hands. The fork rattled against the plate as she brought it closer to her, resting it on her knees. The young man nodded his head, and walked back towards the door. He stopped, then looked back at her, looking as if he was debating with himself on whether he should talk to her or not. Finally, after staring at her for a good twenty seconds, he opened his mouth. "I'm sorry," He mumbled, before exiting the room and locking the door behind him. Amanda stared at the blank door for a moment, before looking down at her food. It looked as if it hasn't even been cooked probably, but she was far too hungry to care. She stuffed it into her mouth, not even bothering with the fork. She needed the food in her stomach as soon as possible – large amounts would do the trick.

"Tyrone Jackson and Wesley Tanner," Olivia announced, pinning the two police pictures of the kidnappers onto the board. "Both have been arrested for gambling charges; money laundering, robbery, fraud, racketeering, extortion and assault – both neither convicted for a very long time, because they were able to afford very well-known Lawyers," Olivia told the other detectives, her voice obvious with anger. If they had been convicted for their crimes, then Amanda would be safe with her. "They work for Murphy – so it's obvious that Amanda was taken because of the fact that she testified against him. The first thing that we're going to do, is search any assets under their names; houses, buildings, or vehicles," Olivia commanded, looking from the detectives to the pictures of Amanda's kidnappers. "These sons of a bitch have Amanda – we need to bring her back safe and sound. We have to find where they're keeping here," Olivia stated, her fingers brushing over the picture of Amanda which was located in the middle of the bored, to remind them that she was the reason for this investigation. She paused for a second, staring at her, wishing that she could see the real Amanda, instead of a picture. I'm sorry, Olivia thought to herself as felt a tear run down her cheek.

Fin noticed that she was getting upset again, so he knew he had to distract her. He cleared his throat, and stood up from behind the table. "I have the results from those two Atlanta numbers – one of them belongs to the Atlanta Police Department, I'm guessing she's been keeping in touch with her old captain, Sam Reynolds," Fin commented, remembering the time that he had met him in the club only a week before. Olivia nodded her head, thinking about the conversation she had with Amanda about how they were once attracted to each other. She couldn't help but feel a twang of jealousy – the thought of her talking to someone she was once in love with was hurtful. "And the other?" Olivia pressed, knowing that it had nothing to do with the case, but she wanted to know anyway. "The other belongs to Peachford Hospital – I enquired about whether or not they had any contact with Amanda, and they said that her sister, Ashley Rollins is a patient there," Fin answered, which Olivia already knew. She should have known that, that was one of the numbers – she talked about her sister often. "Thanks Fin," Olivia commented, feeling slightly reassured that Atlanta had absolutely nothing to do with the investigation. Now, all that Olivia needed to do was track down the location of where Amanda was – so with that in mind, she walked over to the computer and started searching Jackson's property records.