Blood stains your lips, dripping down your chin, your face swollen and bruised from the beating you took. You can feel the ropes biting into your wrists. You figured someone would come for you by now, well anyone but Butcher. He’s made it clear a thousand times that you’re more trouble than you’re worth. So when you were dragged into this mess, your last thought was that he’d leave you to rot. He’s not exactly known for rescuing people.

But now you hear the door crash open. You try to lift your head, but your body betrays you, and you slump forward. “Where is she?” Butcher’s voice tears through the air. A few muffled words follow from whoever’s holding you, but Butcher cuts them off. “I said where the fuck is she?” Followed by a sickening crack, and the thud of bodies hitting the floor.

You can barely focus, but then you feel a hand on your face that’s softer than you expect. You try to pull away, but the touch is insistent, sliding under your chin to tilt your head up. Butcher’s eyes are wild, focused on you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. They’re red, bloodshot, narrowed with barely-contained rage. And then, for the first time since you’ve known him, you see something in his eyes. Something darker. Something personal.

“Goddammit,” he mutters under his breath, his thumb gently wiping away the blood from your lip, his fingers pressing into your skin as if trying to hold you together. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay. Doesn’t try to comfort you. He just looks at you. Butcher lets out a short, bitter laugh, something that doesn’t sound at all amused.

“You’re one bloody pain in the arse, aren’t you?” he spits, but his voice cracks just a little. Before you can even register what’s happening, he’s cutting through the ropes, lifting you with surprising tenderness, pulling you into his arms like he’s afraid you’ll break at any moment. “You stay with me,” he growls through gritted teeth, his grip tightening around you, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “I’m not fucking losing you.”