AN: So real life has basically kicked me in the ass for the past few weeks and it's felt like I've barely had time to even breathe, but I finally found time for this story again so I'm taking advantage of it to give you another chapter :)
The days start rolling into one until she's not sure what day it is or how long she's been in this place. And all the drugs he's forced in her system don't help her hazy memory. She's fought to stay coherent but with her head feeling heavy and fuzzy and the pain in her body, she loses the fight.
After all the screaming until her throat was raw – part from pain, part hoping that someone would hear her; after all everything she's been through since she's been strapped to this chair, she's tired of fighting. She's tired of not knowing if now is going to be the time when he kills her.
She just tired.
She hears a faint pitter patter of what she assumes could be dripping water or maybe it's a bunch of tiny feet. But neither of those things make any sense. She can't be sure if this is actually happening or if she's imaging it all.
There's a voice calling her, telling her to hold on and there's something on her neck. She pulls her head away or so she tries. Even through the haze, she's afraid that it's him coming back to finally finish the job. But she hears her name from a soft, comforting voice and she knows that it can't be him.
Although there's a nagging voice in the back of her mind that's telling her this is all a trick but she's too exhausted to care.
If it is him, she can't bring herself to care. If it is him then she won't have to feel this way anymore – it'll finally be over.
She feels herself being lifted and she wonders if she is passing on. If she can finally be free from the torture, the haze and the pain. She just wants it to be over – to not feel anything anymore. But then her back makes contact with something firm and flat. And then she's moving.
She starts hearing a buzz and she thinks it could be voices overlapping but she can't focus on them. They don't mean anything to her. Although, there is this one that sticks out, one that breaks through the haze. One that is familiar to her.
"Please hang on," the voice calls, pleading with her. "Keep fighting for me, O."
And she tries. She doesn't know why but something clicks with the familiarity of the voice and the comfort of it. This voice that for some reason feels like coming home gives her the motivation to fight.
I will. I promise.
And she hopes that she can keep that promise.
A moan escapes her lips and she slowly blinks her eyes, trying to bring clarity to her blurry vision. The blob sitting on the chair next to the bed she's in slowly forms into her brother and she can feel a small smile blooming on her lips.
"Hey there."
She stifles a groan and rubs a hand across her face. "How long how I been out?"
"A few hours," Bellamy tells her.
"Where am I?"
Bellamy sighs. "You're in the hospital….do you remember anything?"
"I was in a basement, I think and Cage was there," she rattles off, she shakes her head. It's all a little foggy and she can't remember much but she remembers pain and blood and she forces the thoughts away, not wanting to dwell on them for much longer. "I don't remember much," she lies, wanting to try and keep the more horrific details to herself – no need to worry her brother when she can't even be for sure what happened yet.
After a moment she asks the only question that really matters to her. "Please tell me you all finally caught this bastard."
"He's in custody – don't worry," Bellamy easily responds, reaching over and grasping her hand. "He's done for. There's no way he's going to get out of this."
Octavia lets out a sigh of relief before glancing back over at him. "Are you going to tell me what happened on your end?"
"When we finally found you, you were unconscious and the bastard was standing over you with a knife – some of the SWAT officers took him down," Bellamy tells her. "I checked your pulse and untied you and Miller shouted for an ambulance."
Octavia nods and glances down at her wrists and saw the rope burns. She runs her fingers over one of her red wrists and turns her gaze back to her brother.
"You know through it all…I thought –"he stops, swallowing hard. "I thought I was going to lose you."
Octavia gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm not going anywhere, Bell. You're not getting rid of me that easily."
After a few minutes, the sibling's lapse into a comforting silence, just enjoying each other's company, soaking in the relief that she's okay, that she's alive. Relived that this ordeal is finally over and they can breathe.
A knock at the door has both of them turning their heads and Octavia feels a smile forming when her gaze lands on her partner.
"I'll give you two a minute and let Lincoln know you're awake," Bellamy tells Octavia before placing a kiss on her forehead and shuffling out of the hospital room.
"Hey," Octavia says. "What you got there?"
"I heard you might be opening a flower shop," Miller responds, holding up a bouquet. "Monty and I thought we'd add to it."
Octavia takes the moment to take in her hospital room and finally notices all the flowers and other trinkets surrounding her. "Wow," she breathes realizing just how extensive it really is. "I guess they're all mostly from the precinct."
"Probably," Miller tells her, sitting the bouquet down and settling in the chair Bellamy vacated. "How are you feeling?"
"Better than I was, but I can guess that I have a long road ahead," Octavia responds. She gives her partner a look and raises an eyebrow. "What aren't you telling me?"
Miller sighs. "It's the other girl."
"There was another body wasn't there?"
"Not exactly…well she wasn't dead, but she was barely alive," Miller explains, clasping his hands together. "She's in a room down the hall and the doctors say she should be fine but it's who it was."
"Get it out Miller," Octavia says, tired of her partner trying to beat around the bush instead of just biting the bullet and getting to the point.
"It was Harper."
Octavia gasps. "No…how's Monroe taking it?"
"Monroe hasn't left Harper's bedside since they brought her in which was a few days before we finally found you," Miller states.
"So she's okay?"
Miller nods. "She has a long healing process ahead of her, but she's going to be just fine."
Octavia breaths out a sigh of relief. She cares just as much about Monty and Harper as she does about Miller and Monroe. Their little dysfunctional squad is a family and that family extends into her coworkers significant others.
"How long as it been?" Octavia asks, wanting the answer to the question but also not wanting it.
"A week," Miller answers truthfully. "There were some clues where we found Harper that lead us in your direction….and know you're curious and you want to know all the details, but maybe there are some things better left unknown."
"Yeah I know, but I think you and I both know it's probably not going to stop me," Octavia says, shooting a look at Miller who quickly agrees with her.
She runs a hand over her face. "How could I have let myself get captured?"
"It's not your fault," Miller says immediately.
"It feels like it is, he was in my apartment," Octavia tells him. "He'd already attacked Lincoln and…I'm a cop, I should have done more."
"You managed to call me, you did all that you could," he tells her, reaching for her hand and giving it a comforting squeeze.
"How is he by the way?" she asks.
"I'm fine."
Octavia gaze quickly goes towards the door where Lincoln is walking in. He's okay.
"Just a minor concussion," Lincoln tells her. "Which is kind of surprising."
"I'm going to go check in on Monroe," Miller explains before taking his leave.
"Please don't ask me how I'm doing," Octavia says once Lincoln settles on the bed next to her hip. "I don't think I could take another person asking me the same question after just waking up."
"You're alive and that's all I could ask for," Lincoln says with a smile, cupping her cheek with his hand. "Given the fact that I thought I'd lost you."
"I'm right here," Octavia breathes out, placing a kiss on the inside of his wrist. "I'm not going anywhere."
"I know."