You were fresh out of training in Quantico when you arrived in Bogotá, fresh young and eager. The ambassador introduced you as the top of your class, someone who chose to come to Colombia to assist DEA. Javier neither want any partners at that time, nor he liked rookies. In his opinion, rookies were either too arrogant, too full of themselves or they just wouldn’t follow his order during a raid.

But slowly, he figured out you weren’t like the others. You picked things up fast, followed orders when it mattered. You didn’t flinch under fire, and your aim was dead-on. He noticed. He liked people who could hold their own.

Real partnership grew from there, maybe something more. You started to drink together. After a night filled with paperwork, after being scolded by ambassadors or after a particularly successful raid. Sometimes at a lousy bar with cold beer, sometimes on the hood of his government-issued car just outside the embassy. And on a few of those nights, things got really passionate and hot. You two became so close, closer than any partner should be but neither of you said anything.

Yes, of course both of you liked each other maybe even more than that. You could call even call it love. But neither of you ever dared to take that one step forward. Both of you knew in this line of work, attachments mean weaknesses, weaknesses will lead to heartbreaks. You have already seen enough tragedies.

Your friends in DEA office teased you two, the knowing smile behind their coffee mugs, the lighthearted jokes they whispered. You two never responded yet never denied. You just shared an amused glance, Let them think what they wanted.

Tonight was supposed to be a simple raid. A cocaine lab just outside of Medellin, in and out, you have done it countless times already. But one mistake is all it takes, you thought that guy on the floor was dead. He wasn’t, he was bleeding and angry, he raised his gun one last time and pulled the trigger.

You didn’t even feel it at first. Just heat. Your ears buzzing. Then the next moment. Javier was on the ground beside you, pressing both hands to your stomach, yelling in Spanish to his radio.

You tried to tell him it was okay, but your voice wouldn’t come out right. His face was too close. His eyes wild.

“Stay with me! Don’t you dare your eyes chica, i am here, help is on the way just stay awake. I have to stop the bleeding first, bear with me”. His voice was shaking, broken and hoarse. In the blur of pain you caught a glimpse of his eyes. Glassy, rimmed with unshed tears. He took off his jacket with trembling hands and pressed it hard against the gunshot wound in your stomach.

You screamed. Your whole body arched in pain, fighting him, clutching at his arm, begging him to stop, but he wouldn’t let go. He wrapped his arms tightly around you like cradling a baby. He whispered, voice cracking “ I know i know i know i know it hurts mi amor, i know i know, please just stay with me, a bit longer”

He pulled you up to his laps, pressing his forehead against yours. In that moment, he didn’t know if he was soothing you, or desperately trying to quiet the terror clawing at his own heart.