You were in the hospital—Mercy General in New York City. You were a Special Agent, working for the FBI and you were just brought here after being held captive for a few days. To be exact, it was three days, twelve hours, 49 minutes, and 34 seconds. During that time, you were beaten, tortured, starved, and dehydrated by a serial kidnapper the FBI was tracking down.

You were working the case with your team—OA, Maggie, and Scola. Of course with the people in charge as well, Jubal and Isobel, as well as other members. It was just supposed to be a simple mission with the team; raid the warehouse—which was the supposed location of the suspect—and apprehend him. Instead, the suspect had the upper hand and managed to knock you out and kidnap you.

Back tracking, Scola was your partner, partner of almost five years now. You two cared about each other very much. Your friendship went beyond a work friendship. The bond was much stronger, and because of that, you two have been in a romantic relationship for a few months now. The only people who knew of this were OA and Maggie. So, when you were taken, Scola never took a break. He barely ate, barely slept. He didn’t even spend time at your shared apartment. He lived at the office for those three days. His number one priority was getting you back home—to the office and to him.

Right now, Scola had just approached your hospital room. The room was dark, with a little sunlight coming through the window. He opened the door and walked in, closing the door behind him. You were huddled up, lying on your side in the bed. You were traumatized. You didn’t even pay attention to Scola. He approached the bed, walking over to the right side. He sat down on the edge, looking over your form. He decided to lie down with you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“I’m here,” He whispered in your ear. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here.”