Hello, again! I just can't stay away from writing. :) I got a request asking if I could write a fic for a fem!Mike. This is my first time writing a fic like this. It is based on the events in "Welcome Home" from Mikayla's point of view.

My name is Mikayla Elizabeth Weston. Everyone I know calls me Mikie for short. I am the second youngest agent in the Federal Bureau of Investigation. So many people ask me if I enjoy what I do. I always tell them yes. There are days, however, when I wish I didn't choose this life. I am going to tell you about one of the days where I questioned if I should have gone into this field. I've never openly talked about this before, except with my therapist and a fellow agent, Ryan Hardy. This is my story.

I got into trouble when I hacked agent Nick Donovan's e-mail. He sent me home for the day. Since we were quite a distance from my house, I had to stay in a hotel. As I arrived at the hotel, some lady started following me. An eerie feeling came over me, but I ignored it. I slipped my room key into the door and opened it. Standing in my hotel room were two people, a blond-haired woman and a dark-haired man.

Before I could say anything, the dark-haired man came at me. I tried to fight him off, but he threw me into the nightstand. My head hit the wall, and everything went black from there.

I woke up in a shipyard. My head and back throbbed. I saw the two people who were in my hotel room as well as a few other people. One of them was a light brown-haired man.

"Where's Claire Matthews?" he asked me.

"I don't know," I replied.

I knew where Claire was located. I wasn't going to tell them, though. I couldn't let my hero, Ryan Hardy down.

"Get up," the dark-haired man said.

I slowly stood up. I felt a sharp pain in my bad. My head felt as if it was spinning.

"Round one," the light-brown haired man said.

The dark-haired man threw the first punch, hitting me in the nose. I threw one right back at him. We both fought hard.

"Where's Claire?" the woman asked.

"I don't know," I firmly said.

"Round two," the light-brown haired man said.

The dark-haired man handed me a pipe. I took a swing and missed. He hit me in the knees, making me scream and bend over. He then hit me in the stomach.

I slumped over onto the ground. Although I was in worst pain I have ever been in, I wasn't giving in to them.

"This is your last chance," said the light brown-haired man. "Where's Claire?"

"I don't know," I said as loud as I possibly could.

"I believe you," he said, flashing a sly smile.

His smile gave everything away. He didn't believe me one bit.

"Round three," the woman said.

The dark-haired man smirked at me as he takes a knife from the blond woman. I slowly stood up. Every time I moved, my whole body ached. The dark-haired man kicked a knife in my direction. I picked it up and took a deep breath.

I charged at the dark-haired man. I pulled my elbow back, ready to drive my knife into his heart. That didn't work out the way I had planned. A sharp pain wracked me as he drove the knife into my side. It knocked all the wind out of me, so I couldn't even scream. It hurt even worse when he pulled the knife out. I dropped to my knees, and looked up at the dark-haired man. He had a big smile on his face. The other followers crowded around me.

"This is it," I thought to myself. "Joe Carroll wins again."

The woman in the group picked up the knife I had dropped.

"I got this," she said as she put the blade up to my throat.

I struggled against her grip, but every move I made sent searing pain through my body. Two other followers held me still as the woman pressed the edge of the blade harder against my throat. I closed my eyes and prepared to die.

The next thing I remember is hearing gunshots. The two followers holding me went down. The woman dropped the knife and ran away. The sound of gunshots echoed throughout the shipyard. I could barely see anything, but I know that some of the followers were killed.

After the firing ceased, I felt someone's arms around me.

"Mikie? Mikie?" the voice asked.

I opened my eyes and saw Ryan Hardy. He shifted onto his knees and propped me up against his chest. He placed one of my hands on top of my wound and held it there firmly.

One of my legs was bent at an uncomfortable angle. I try to move it, but Ryan stops me.

"Don't move!" he said, tightening his grip on me. "An ambulance is coming."

Even though I was in severe pain, I had to let Ryan know that I didn't tell them where Claire was located. I looked up at him and opened my mouth to speak.

"I didn't tell them, Ryan," I choked out. "I didn't tell them anything."

Ryan nodded his head. Ryan's face was the last thing I remember seeing before everything went black.

"So this is what it feels like to die," I thought to myself as everything became a blur.

Despite my near-death experience, I'm glad I chose to work for the FBI. I went through a brief period where I considered leaving, but once I got back to working alongside Ryan Hardy again, almost everything returned to normal. I still am a little edgy to this day, but I have a great support system, especially my hero, Ryan Hardy. This whole experience brought Ryan and I closer together. It also made me a much stronger person and a better fighter. Although it was painful both physically and mentally, I'm glad it happened. It made me who I am today, and I am proud of that.

This was definitely a step out of my comfort zone, but I enjoyed writing it very much. Thanks to the person who gave me this idea!