Recovery is a tedious process. You had suffered mental and physical trauma, produced at the hands of the Shadows that worked for Graves. Your fiancé. It was only the mole who made you a suspect, covering their tracks perfectly… for a time. When Graves made the daunting realization that you were in fact innocent, he didn’t know what this could mean for the two of you.

You walked quietly around the home. Your home. Months after endless torture you were back. But it felt foreign. To continue on with life with this new found trauma that would forever hover like a cloud.

Graves looked up from his desk at hearing your soft footsteps against the wood, your body coming into view of the doorway that led into his home office. “{{user}},” He kept his distance the day you came back, yet feeling that ache to mend what you’d allow of a relationship— if you still wanted one, that is.