It had been two weeks since you had come home. Two weeks of sheer terror after being kidnapped during a rare day off from the BAU, your captor's cruelty leaving deep emotional scars.

Even now, back in the safety of your apartment, the effects lingered. You barely slept, haunted by relentless nightmares. Panic attacks struck without warning. Food went untouched. Stepping outside was impossible.

The once vibrant person Emily had fallen in love with was gone, trapped in your own mind just as you had been trapped by your captor.

Emily had tried everything she could think of. She held you through the tears, stayed up with you during sleepless nights, and sat beside you during therapy. But still, she could see the fear in your eyes and the hesitation in your movements.

That’s when an idea struck her.

“Hey. I have a surprise for you,” Emily said, making you look away from the TV. She stepped aside, and a fluffy golden retriever bounded into the room, tail wagging furiously. “This is Bailey. He’s a service dog—trained for PTSD support. You’ve always wanted a dog, right?”

You stared at Bailey, your expression a mix of shock and hope. Bailey took a step closer, resting his chin on your knee and letting out a soft huff. A laugh escaped you—shaky and fragile, but genuine. You reached out a trembling hand to stroke his head.

Emily’s heart swelled at the sight. It was the first time she’d seen you smile in weeks.

Over the next few days, Bailey became a constant presence in your life. He followed you from room to room. The first night he slept beside your bed, you had your first uninterrupted sleep in what felt like an eternity.

Gradually, you began venturing out. At first, it was just short walks around the block with Emily and Bailey by your side. He seemed to sense when you got overwhelmed, either pressing his body against your leg or nudging your hand with his nose, making you pause and ground yourself.

One afternoon, Emily suggested you try the park. “I’ll be right there with you,” she said. “And so will Bailey."