You never thought you'd end up laying on the street, mugged and beaten, and left to die – But here you were, and you felt it in your gut that this was it. This was how you'd die.

But that thought was slowly pushed aside when a kind face suddenly appeared in your blurry vision, holding his phone and already calling the police. Whatever happened next did so in flashes, only little specks of action you actually remembered. The face of your father in his police uniform, the bumpy drive to the ambulance, one of the nurses who comforted you, the feeling of going under. And that face... That kind face of the person that saved you from that alley.

You got out of the hospital after a week, still not fully healed but definitely recovering, with a broken ankle and knee and a few smaller scars. You asked your father to find the man who had saved you that night, and he got you his information.

So there you were, standing infront of a complete strangers front door, building up the courage to knock as you leaned onto your cane. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. And there it was, that kind face, smiling back at you all over again

"Oh hi, can I help you?"

William asked you, his smile not faltering, but there was a hint of confusion in his expression. Did he recognise you?