It was dark. She wasn't sure if her eyes were open, but she thought they were. And it was so dark. She shifted slightly, feeling an odd whisper against her skin. Had she been blindfolded? That would explain it, she decided. There was a voice somewhere, off in the distance. It sounded cold. Not at all how she was expecting a voice to sound while she was in pain.

Oh, yes, there was pain. Her head was throbbing in time with her heart, and there was an odd, burning sort of feeling in her hand that was warning her not to try to move. She tried anyway, twitching her arms and legs. Nothing worked properly, and she felt a frisson of panic as her limbs refused to follow her commands.

"Welcome back."

Cold. Chilling. She had expected warmth, she realised. Concern. Not this emotionless sort of noise.

"I know you're awake."

A shudder ran down her spine, threatening to set her hand on fire with the movement. That voice. That wasn't someone who cared about the pain she was in. That was someone who was happy she was in pain. Someone who wanted her to hurt. Someone who wanted to hurt her.

"Now then, Abby. Let's get started."

…

Magnum nearly ran into a doctor as he hurried down the corridor. He called an apology over his shoulder as he carried on, counting the rooms rather than taking the time to read the numbers on the doors.

"Forty-five," he muttered to himself, "forty-six, forty-seven." At forty-eight, he pushed through the door and stopped for a split second to take in the sight in front of him. Abby was sitting up in bed, something he knew was a good sign. But she was pale, tears swimming in her eyes, and a large piece of gauze on her forehead.

"Thomas!" she gasped, holding her hands out.

He crossed the room, sitting on the side of her bed to wrap his arms around her. "What happened?" His voice was rougher than usual, thick with emotions he was struggling to control; he knew the bare bones of the story already, but he was hoping Abby could give him more.

She pulled back slightly. "They wanted me. They pulled up in front of us in a van, jumped out. Three of them, all wearing masks." She was trembling, fear and shock playing havoc on her body.

Part of him wanted to tell her not to strain herself, to get her a blanket and wrap her up, let her rest. But it was only a small part of him. The rest of him was chomping at the bit, desperate to leave the room and get to work. But he needed info first. So he stayed still and quiet.

"They said they knew you, that they owed you. And they asked which of us was Abby." Tears were trickling down her cheeks now. She made no move to wipe them away, and neither did Magnum. He knew what was coming next; Katsumoto had filled him in, but he needed to hear it. He wasn't willing to risk distracting her.

"Higgins said she was me. And two of them grabbed her. And the other one grabbed me and told me...He told me to tell you that you won't see her alive again. And then he pushed me into the side of the van." One hand came up to rub absently at the gauze on her head.

Magnum swallowed hard, pushing down the fear and impatience. "Did they say anything else? Anything that could help me find her?" He held her gaze as she looked at him with an expression he couldn't decipher.

"Just that you would know why this was happening."

"What about the van? Did you see the license plate? Or recognize the model?" He let her go as she pulled away from him, settling herself on the pillows.

She had an odd look on her face, a cross between anger and resignation, and, when she answered, her voice was fiercely controlled. "It was green. I think it was a Toyota." She watched as Magnum tipped his head to the side, clearly frustrated with the lack of detail she was able to offer.

He was about to say something when there was a knock at the door. Katsdumoto walked in, not at all surprised to find Magnum already there. They nodded at each other before Katsumoto looked to Abby.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Miller, I know you've been through a lot. But I need to ask you some more questions. The first twenty-four hours following an abduction are essential," he explained, glancing over at Magnum as he did. "It's vital we gather as much information as we can."

Abby nodded. "Of course, but I don't know what else I can tell you. I didn't see any of their faces; the one that spoke didn't have any sort of accent." She glanced at Magnum before saying, "I didn't even get a partial license plate from the van." There was an odd tone in her voice, something that made Magnum's brow furrow.

"What about before the van pulled up? Did you notice anything earlier in the day? Someone acting suspicious? Maybe a vehicle showing up repeatedly?" Katsumoto was reaching, and he knew it. But he also knew that they needed something, anything to go on if they were going to find Higgins.

"I'm sorry, Detective. I really can't think of anything." She wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on Magnum, who was frowning at her.

Katsumoto looked between them for a second before continuing, quickly deciding that whatever domestic dispute was going on between them was less important than finding his kidnapping victim. He pulled out his business card and offered it to Abby.

"If you think of anything, anything at all, no matter how insignificant it might seem, let me know. Any time." He turned and walked out, already mentally planning out the statement he was most likely going to have to make to the press; a young woman being snatched off a busy street in broad daylight was going to generate a lot of interest.

He was surprised to hear Magnum calling his name and turned to see the other man chasing after him.

"Where do we go first?" he asked and didn't seem at all abashed by the look Katsumoto gave him.

"Don't you think you should stay here? With your girlfriend?" he added as the P.I. continued to look at him.

"I think that Higgins gave herself up to protect Abby. And I think that Abby was only in danger because of me." Magnum had a look on his face that Katsumoto knew well, he had seen it in the mirror every day after his marriage fell apart: guilt.

"I'm going back to the scene. Uniforms are canvassing the area, but it's a tourist trap so it's slow going." He could see that Magnum was about to ask something and held up his hand. "You do not question witnesses without an officer with you, understood? I will have you arrested for obstructing the course of justice."

There minutes later, they were heading to the corner where Higgins had been taken, Magnum disturbingly quiet in the passenger seat of Katsumoto's car. He hadn't even tried to suggest they take the Ferrari instead, and Katsumoto couldn't help but worry about what might happen if they didn't find Higgins in time.

…

She screamed again, knowing it wouldn't make the pain stop but utterly unable to hold it in. The pain built and built and never peaked, never leveled out, never started to drop. Her hand was on fire, her arm trapped in a vice, her wrist… oh God! Her wrist was twisting far beyond normal range of motion, setting her nerves alight with a solid wall of agony that was crushing her.

Finally, after cruel mocking laughter was ringing in her ears, the hand twisting her broken wrist let go. She sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, feeling it stick in her throat as a sob escaped her. Her eyes drifted down, closing as the sick adrenaline rush started to fade.

"No!" A stinging slap landed on her cheek, startling her awake. "You don't sleep until I say so." It was the cold voice again, the one that seemed to enjoy her cries of pain.

Fingers ran down her cheek, as if soothing the reddened skin. She didn't trust it, tried to twitch her head away, and the fingers curled around her jaw. Squeezing. They were squeezing, tightly enough that her teeth were cutting into the soft skin on the inside of her cheeks.

"You don't do anything until I say so."

Her head was thrown back as the hand let go of her jaw. She lifted it, easing the strain on her neck, only for a vicious blow to catch her on the jaw. Her head snapped to the side, pain and flames crawling over her face. She moaned as the fingers dug into her cheeks again, shaking her head from side to side.

More laughter echoed around her, and she couldn't hold in the yell as the fingers squeezed tighter, pressing on the newly forming bruise. The cold voice was saying something, and she longed for the warm voice she had expected to hear to come and find her.

…

"I don't understand how no one could see anything. That street was jam-packed with people!" Rick sounded frustrated and tired, and he pushed his half-empty beer away from him with an angry gesture.

"People were expecting to see cheap souvenirs and expensive aloha shirts, not a kidnapping." Katsumoto hadn't even opened his beer, opting instead to stare at the bottle as if it could sort through the conflicting statements his eye witnesses had given.

"We've got three people insisting there were more than a dozen men involved. One guy who swears blind that it was an alien abduction. One woman who is convinced Higgins was never on that street to begin with. And two kids who seem to think she's hiding out in their step-dad's shed, even though they hadn't gone home before we spoke to them!" T.C. sounded every bit as angry as Rick, his usually calm face dark with poorly concealed worry.

"There has to be something useful somewhere in this mess." It was the first thing Magnum had said for a while, and they all turned to look at him. He was looking at the pile of witness statements that Katsumoto had 'accidentally' copied and 'absentmindedly' brought with him to Robin's Nest.

We just have to go through until we find the actual facts." Magnum looked up at his friends, his jaw set and his face determined. "We have to keep looking."

"We will, brother."

"No question about it, Tommy."

Four pairs of hands reached for the sloppy pile of folders, four files were opened on the table, four heads bent over the typed statements. Somewhere was the clue that would lead them to their Higgy. They just had to hope they would find it soon. She was tough, they knew that, able to go toe-to-toe with any one of them. But they had no idea who had taken her or what they were doing to her. And at least three of them were all too familiar with all the ways a person could be made to suffer.

The idea of Higgins going through that, being dragged through a hell of someone else's design, was sickening. They needed to find her.

…

The chair rocked as another punch landed high on her chest. She gasped, coughing as the air was driven out of her lungs, wincing as the cough pulled at her side.

"Please…" she couldn't get out a second word. She didn't have the breath. And the owner of the cold voice didn't want to listen anyway. A hand connected with her face, catching her on her cheekbone. Her head fell to the side with the force of the backhanded blow, the chair tilting again as her entire body sagged against the ropes holding her down. Or where they holding her up? Her head was spinning, and she wasn't sure which sentence structure was correct.

The fist that landed in her stomach drove every thought out of her head, replacing them with panic as she struggled, and failed, to breathe, her chest shaking as her lungs strained and heaved. She heard the wheeze sitting deep in her own throat as the air finally flowed back into her lungs, and she swallowed hard, trying to keep her stomach from twisting, trying to keep from coughing.

She had all of two seconds, feeling light-headed and dizzy, then the fist came flying back, hitting the same spot on her stomach as before. The only reason she didn't scream again was the simple fact that she had no air to support any sort of noise. Her mouth was hanging open as she fought the feeling of suffocation, fought not to writhe against the ropes. She knew the cold voice didn't like it when she struggled against the ropes. She could feel the tender spots on her legs where the baseball bat had landed as she had been taught that 'lesson.'

Somewhere, far away, and drifting further with every burst of pain, there were people looking for her, she knew. People who wouldn't stop until they had found her. She had to hang on to that. She hadn't hesitated before saying that she was Abby. Abby was important to Magnum, so Abby had to be protected. And she was important to her boys, so they would come and save her. Her boys were going to get her out of this. It was just that simple. She hoped.

…

They were sitting in silence. It wasn't that they didn't want to talk; it was just that no one had anything to say. Over the last two days, they had chased down every lead they could scrounge up, followed every inconsistency, tugged on every single thread. And it had all been for nothing. They could say with certainty what hadn't happened to Higgins. They knew she hadn't been taken by five ninjas (thanks for that, Mr. Cartwright). They knew she hadn't been dragged behind a mirror as part of a performance of street magic (nice try, Ms. Opal).

But, as for what had happened? All they knew was what Abby had told them, her story confirmed by the few security cameras that had caught the abduction. A green van, a Toyota, had driven up on the curb and three men had jumped out, all wearing masks. They had said a few words, then Higgins had been grabbed by two of them, Abby by one. Both women were slammed up against the side of the van, a hand on their heads making sure they were knocked out. Abby had been dropped to the ground, Higgins had been pulled into the van. And it had driven off.

It had been too long. They all knew it. None of them wanted to say it, none of them would say it, but they were all thinking it. Thinking of how the critical twenty-four hour window had closed over twenty-four hours ago. Of how there was only so long a person could hold out before their body gave up, regardless of the strength of their will. Of all the ways a body could be disposed of. Because that was where it was going, they were sure. Whoever it was who had been after Abby had wanted to hurt Magnum. And they had outright said that he wouldn't see 'Abby' alive again.

Whoever had Higgins was going to kill her, if they hadn't already. And that was the thought that was tripping them up at every turn. Every minute they didn't find her just made it more and more likely that they would never get her back.

Rick was still fielding calls, but each time he answered his cell, his voice got a little lower, as if he was expecting nothing but negative answers. Magnum had tried calling in favors from his old military contacts as well as from friends he had made working as a P.I., but nothing had come from them. Katsumoto was still working in HPD and sending them updates, but he had gone from phone calls every hour to text messages every two hours, as if he couldn't stand to keep telling them there was no movement on the case, but also couldn't bear not telling them anything. Although, it had been four hours since they had last heard from him, so maybe he had finally decided to bite the bullet and go silent.

Kumu, worried and upset as she was, had fussed around, making food that had gone untouched. She had tried cajoling and threatening, wanting to make sure the men didn't forget to look after themselves. She had even tried pointing out that they would need their strength if they were going to have to fight to get Higgins back. That had prompted a few of the sandwiches to disappear, but it hadn't worked a second time.

"There has to be something we've missed." But Magnum's voice was quiet and dull, full of exhaustion rather than determination.

"Maybe… maybe we should sleep on it?" T.C. sounded like he was choking the words out, like he would rather be having teeth pulled than suggesting a nice little nap. But it was pretty much the only thing they hadn't tried, and they were all dog-tired, and no one cared to try to summon any sort of indignation. No one replied either, and, a few seconds later, he reached out for a witness statement. There was nothing there, they all knew it. But there was nothing else they could do.

…

Consciousness was slow to come back, and she didn't care to rush it. When she woke up, the cold voice would come back. The cold voice meant pain, and she wasn't sure how much more she could handle. Her body felt broken. As if every joint had been twisted and pulled. She fought against the moan that was building in her chest as the pain, realising she was awake, started to dart about her. A flare in her shoulder made her head twitch. She felt the floor rub against her cheek, wincing as it pulled against her swollen face.

A deep breath would be wonderful, except for the white-hot agony that was creeping around her chest, just waiting for her to try to fill her lungs to pounce and make her cry out. She couldn't make a sound. She couldn't let the cold voice know that it was time to come back. Swallowing was a mistake, but she needed to do it; there was a lump in her throat, she wasn't sure if was air or pain. The firey feeling made her duck her head, feeling the floor scratching her face again.

There was something… something nagging at her. A thought of some sort. Something… important. Something important that her mind was trying to tell her. She wasn't sure she could focus on anything other than not moving anymore, on keeping the cold voice away for as long as possible. But… important. It was important. Her face. Her face was hurting so much, punches hard enough to split her skin had left it… On the floor?

She felt her brow crease as she tried so hard to focus on the train of thought. Her face was on the floor. But… she was tied to a chair. Had she fallen? It had happened before, the force of the blows too great for her body to compensate. The cold voice had taken advantage of it, resting his arms and kicking her instead. But she had always been lifted back up before. Why was she still on the floor? Had she somehow fallen after the cold voice had left?

It was so hard to concentrate. Every moment she managed to cling to coherent thought cost so much. She felt a tear trickle over her tender cheek and let her head shift again, even though it pulled almost unbearably at the bruises on her neck. The floor was rough against her temple, but it was cool enough to be soothing and… Her temple?

The blindfold that she had been wearing since she was first woken up by the cold voice had covered her temples. She had felt the fabric of it the first time her head had connected with the floor. Why would it suddenly be gone? Did the cold voice want her to see the face that went with the sound? Did that mean she was going to be killed soon?

For a moment, the merest fraction of a second, she let the thought drift away. But her boys slipped into her mind. If she died, if she gave up, would they ever know what had happened to her? Would they ever stop looking? How would she have felt, when Magnum had disappeared, if they had never found him, never understood why had been taken? She couldn't do that to them. She couldn't put them through that.

There was something going on. Something strange. She was lying on the floor. Her blindfold was gone. She was… she was lying on the floor. Not held in the toppled chair, but actually on the floor. A wild surge of adrenaline coursed through her, pushing back some of the pain and confusion, and she let her eyes open.

She expected to hear the cold voice, to feel a jolt of pain. Instead, she just lay there, staring at the door to the room, standing open. It was only a few feet away. She could have cried. She was so close, but she had no idea what was waiting for her beyond the doorway. It could have been a trick, a cruel, evil trick, designed to make her use up what little precious energy and resolve she had left. But… she caught her breath in a painful gasp as her mind screamed at her that this could be her one chance, her only chance, to get away.

The pain would be unbearable, she knew. But she couldn't pass out. She needed to move and to keep moving. To get to the door, to go through the door, to get outside. It was so far away. So impossibly far. Her eyes drifted closed again as she lost herself in an exhausted cycle of pain and regret, mentally apologising to her boys for her failure to fight.

They would never understand, she knew. They had been through so much and come out the other side, they would never be able to understand how she could just lie there and… They were right. How could she just lie there? She wasn't some weak-willed little moppet. She had single-handedly saved the free world while on assignment in the Ukraine, and it wasn't even what she'd been sent there to do. A little pain was not going to stop her.

Pain was temporary. Pain was countered with tablets, for goodness sake! Tiny little pills, smaller than her fingernail, could chase away every screaming nerve. She just needed to man up and deal with it for a little while longer.

She nearly lost the battle at the very first hurdle; she dragged her right arm up and the entire world dipped and spun and went totally grey. Freeze, breathe, keep going. Do not black out. Her mental voice was fierce and had steel running through it.

And it was warm. It was the voice she had expected to hear when she'd first woken up. Magnum. It was Magnum's voice, telling her not to give up. Ordering her to stay with him. Demanding she keep moving. Insisting she was so much stronger than this pain she was feeling.

Her eyes had closed again, and she forced them back open. Locked her gaze on the doorway. Grabbed hold of Magnum's voice with every fibre of her being. And started crawling across the room.

…

Magnum nearly didn't answer his phone. He saw Katsumoto's name on the screen and knew, like he knew how to breathe, that he was about to be told the search for Juliet was being called off.

"Katsumoto. It's been a while." He couldn't help the tone of his voice, knowing it was flat and cold and unable to change it. He could see Rick and T.C. looking at him with fear and resignation on their faces. They were expecting the same news as he was. None of them wanted to hear it, but none of them could think of a way of stopping it.

"She's alive, Magnum!" Katsumoto's voice rang in Magnum's ear and he couldn't react for a second. "She's being taken to St. Katherine's; I'm headed there now."

"We're on our way." As Magnum hung up, he felt a grin tugging at his mouth. He didn't even need to say anything; there was only one reason he would be smiling right now, and all three men took off toward the front of the house at a run.

It took far less time to reach the hospital than it should have, both Rick in his Porsche and Magnum in the Ferrari treating speed limits as suggestions rather than rules. Katsumoto was standing outside the entrance as the two cars pulled up and he hurried over to them.

"She's been taken into surgery," he told them, holding up a hand to forestall the questions he could see them all wanting to throw at him. "She was found by two kids in an alley. They called their dad; he called for an ambulance." He gave them all a somber look. "She's in a bad way. There's internal bleeding at the very least. The EMTs suspected a severe concussion, even a few broken bones."

All the three men really heard was that she was alive. That was all that mattered at the moment. They headed in and sat themselves in the waiting room, Katsumoto's badge making sure they were promised an update as soon as one was available. Magnum knew he should call Abby while they waited; she had been discharged while he had been running down leads, and they hadn't spoken since she had called to tell him she was home.

But he was afraid to leave his chair, even just to make a phone call. After so many hours of worry and fear, he needed to stay where he was, to wait for someone to come and tell him that Higgins really was okay, that he really hadn't lost her. So he sat, listening to his friends chatting quietly but not really following the conversation.

Abby would understand; he was sure of it.