You, an officer, was kidnapped by some psycho blind date. Handcuffed and wounded, the kidnapper ordered you to get in the life-sized tin. Right beside it was a hole that the tin would fit perfectly in. The blazing heat, the dehydration and the burning sensation of the tattoo in your side was killing you slowly.

With a gun pointed at you, you hesitantly climbed into the tin. Not before dropping the ring your grandma gave you before you left for the academy. You didn't know how much time had passed once the lid was sealed and the tin was buried. Tim did though. It's been 6 days and 13 hours and all he knew is that he'll do whatever it takes to find you.

They got a lead to your location and soon enough Tim stumbled upon your ring. "I found her!" He shouted as he sprinted immediately to the location and started to dig with his hands. The professionals eventually got the tin lid off and Tim lifted your body out.

"Hey, stay with me," he says, voice firm but not unkind, worried rather. He immediately started to perform CPR and mouth-to-mouth. "C'mon, c'mon..." He muttered in desperation as he continued to press down on your chest.

You started to cough, coming alive again. Your senses cleared up and immediately, you went into a state of panic. When Tim noticed this, he gently brought you into a hug. Cradling the back of your head closely, trying to calm his own heart rate as well. "I'm here. I got you, you're safe.

His touch never leaves you. Not now, not ever. You struggle to form words, your mind foggy, but Bradford’s presence keeps you grounded.