Framed

(Trevor's POV)

It took me almost nine months to track down the photographers that had been present the night of the gala of the ALIA. The night Henshall and I had won the award for 'Best Law Firm of the Year'. I had paid all of them to send me the pictures they had taken of Noa and I, regardless of whether it was a posed picture or a candid one, I wanted them. I had told them to send them to the firm and they had arrived some time during the week. Of course, I had to open the array of photographs the day of her birthday, because I wasn't miserable enough without her and my child. Jeanine had been most gracious and had given them to Becca, my new assistant. Becca was no Noa that much could be said, but she got the job done and she did so efficiently.

Henshall loved to quip that she had a crush on me, but in all honesty, I could care less about the unrequited feelings the blonde had for me. My heart belonged to Noa, wherever she was with my child, my heart was there with them.

I sat on my chair, my right hand at my mouth whilst my left one held my favorite shot out of the array of roughly twelve photos. It was a candid shot of Noa and I. Her right arm looped around my waist and she had the most impish smile held by her teeth as she looked up at me with an equally playful stare. I was beaming down at her, my left arm looped around her back, holding her close to me as I grinned at her flirtatious glance. I remembered what was going on when the photographer had snapped this picture.

She had just finished winking at me and I had scoffed in amusement, never one to be able to resist her rogue demeanor. I smiled and reveled in how happy we were at that moment, not knowing what the future held out for us. I felt the tears gather and collect at my bottom lash line and I swallowed hard, clearing my throat in an attempt to keep them at bay. I'd done enough crying in the last couple of months away from her for a lifetime and though I knew this would take time and adjusting, it was still a fresh wound. She wasn't here with me; my child—whom could've been born already—was not here with me. I was alone, in my complete solitude, the only people in my corner: Alex, Casey, and Emily. Little Em asked me nearly every day for her and when would the baby be here.

I loved the love she had for Noa, but she couldn't understand the type of pain I was going through and went through every time her name was even uttered. Casey had prodded enough that she had figured it out within a couple of days of me being in their home and had been more amazing than I ever could've imagined.

I picked up my receiver and dialed the number two, smiling at the possibility of Noa answering, but in return, I got Becca's voice, "Yea?"

"Hey, whenever you can, I need you to go through the office catalog and order me two eight-by-ten picture frames. Make sure they match my desk, ask for Jeanine's help if needed," I spoke quickly, still staring at the picture in my hands.

"Ok, I can go in there now. We could go through the catalog together and that way you'll know for sure," she offered sweetly.

I sighed and rubbed my brow with my free hand. She really was a sweetheart, but it was best if I kept my distance, "I don't want to sound rude, Becca, but I asked you for a reason."

She gasped and stuttered, quickly recovering, "Right, I—I'm sorry. I'll get started on it right away."

I hummed and quickly placed the receiver back on the base, leaning back on my chair to continue to stare at the picture of Noa and I.

Where was she? How was she? Was she eating well? Were her Braxton-Hicks worse now? Had they placed her in a safe neighborhood? Has she made friends?

I sighed heavily and closed my eyes in frustration. I wasn't helping my cause by sitting here in my office wrecking my brain for information that I knew I couldn't have. I growled at myself, turning on my chair and slamming my hands atop my desk, feeling the tears fall. Tristan decided then was a good as any moment to waltz through my office door.

"T—Trevor," he begun bashfully.

I looked up at him and wiped at my face, clearing my throat, and ushering him in, "W—What can I do for you, Tristan?" I asked, clearing my throat once more.

He approached my desk, "You haven't heard anything from her?" he asked, running his hands against the back of the chairs across from me. I shook my head and looked at my desk, "Sara's worried and I don't know what to say. She asked to meet with you."

I breathed out harshly, leaning back, "What am I supposed to tell her Tristan? I don't know where Noa is. She left without leaving trace. Don't you think I've tried to look for her?"

He lowered his head, "Trevor, she wouldn't just leave like that," he said, raising his head, "You've got to know something, anything…"

I stared at Tristan and the longing his eyes exuded. He really loved and cared for Noa, but I couldn't tell him she was in WITSEC. I had already placed her in enough danger as it was by letting my guard down and seemingly getting ridiculously drunk to the point where Alex saw right through me. I couldn't afford to lose her permanently, at least this way I could have just a grain of peace of mind that she and my child were safe, "I don't, Tristan. Do you really think if I knew where the hell she was, I'd be sitting here like a sitting duck?" my voice rose an octave and I growled at Tristan.

The man across from me stared at my face, taking in the distress, the longing I had for her return, the hurt, and he slowly nodded, "Why would she leave?" he said, his voice barely there, "She was happy."

And, before I could answer, I could hear muffled screaming through my door and I furrowed my brow, placing the photo that was still clutched in my hand atop my desk as I stood. I looked at Tristan who wiped at his face before a very angry, very distraught, and tear-stained face Sara barged in, "I'm sorry, Trevor," begun Becca, "She was adamant and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."

I chuckled slightly, one of the similarities the sisters shared, "Sara," I mentioned breathily.

"Where is she, Trevor? Where's my sister? What did you do to her?"

I sighed and bowed my head, "Becca, move my eleven-thirty to after one, and no interruptions," I barked quickly at my assistant and saw her turn to leave towards her desk, "Tristan, I'll talk to Sara."

Tristan nodded and turned slightly, meeting Sara halfway, "We'll hear from her soon, Sara," he spoke softly to her, "You know how she is."

Sara gave a sad smile and walked towards me, "Where is she, Trevor?"

"Sara, I—I don't know."

"Bullshit!" she bit back harshly, her tears falling freely down her face, "T—That's bullshit, and you know it!"

I paced the area in front of her, "Sara, please, do you think I would withhold that type of information from you? Of all the people, you?" Of course I would, if it meant her safety, yes I would.

"Why is no one doing anything to find her? I want her back!"

"Why? So, that your mother can continue terrorizing her?" The words left my mouth before I could stop them and I saw as they made impact. Sara widened her eyes in amusement, her mouth parting as she scoffed, "I—I'm sorry. That was out of line."

She nodded, "Yes, yes it was. But, that doesn't mean it wasn't true," she paused, slowly deflating, "You and Tristan know her more than anyone, Trevor. Y—You have to know where she is."

"I don't, Sara. Like, I told Tristan, do you think if I would know where she was I'd be here like a sitting duck?"

"You know, she was refusing to see me since the New Year started, and then I find out she's pregnant. What's been going, Trevor?"

I sighed and ran my fingers through my face. Was it really my place to oust our problems? Her pain and journey? "Whatever reasons your sister had to keep you at arm's length are unbeknownst to me. She made her decisions and I would support them without hesitation. You know how she is once she gets an idea stuck in her head."

Sara brought her hands to her face, letting her sobs take over. Her shoulders shaking with sobs and I hesitated with my comfort. I walked towards her, bridging our gap, and took her in my arms, wrapping her in my embrace and as she crumbled, so did I. She clung to me, much like Noa had done so all that time ago on our way to Poughkeepsie, and just like I had done to her sister I allowed for her to find her comfort in me. She needed it, we both did. I found solace in her just like she found hers in me. We were both missing the common denominator in our lives, and she could possibly be missing her more than I did. That was her sister, they grew up together, and they shared an unbreakable bond even if they wanted to kill each other most of the time.

She had lost her sister, but what had I lost? My future wife, the love of my life, and my child; we both were in need of some comfort, and who better to share this pain than with her? Sara pushed back, wiping at her tears when she noticed she had been clinging to my chest. She looked up at me, an apologetic look in her eyes and I smiled, sniffling and wiping at my eyes.

"I was going to propose when she left," I confessed, my voice hoarse, "I had told her to come away with me to my family's beach house in Montauk. She seemed excited; she was excited for the long weekend. But, I received a call of high importance and I had to leave to take care of it. When I came back, there was no Billings, no Noa, and no trace of them anywhere in my apartment. The only thing that was left was her scent."

"Y—You were going to propose?" she asked shocked.

I nodded as I walked back towards my desk; opening the top drawer to retrieve the small velvet box that I had been carrying for nearly five months now. I sat on my chair, deflating as I ran my hand over my brow. I watched as she approached the desk, taking in her hands the box to open it and eye the ring I had chosen for her to be my wife. Once Sara opened the box she revealed a four-carat oval cut low solitaire diamond ring with micro-pave band that would've looked more beautiful sitting on Noa's left finger rather than in the box. Sara gasped as she eyed the ring; her eyes sparkling just like the ring had done so many times at me.

"S—She would've loved it," Sara said behind a smile.

"Yea?"

She nodded as she looked at me, closing the box carefully, "Keep it, she'll be back."

She went to place the box on top of my desk when she noticed the array of photographs I had been going through. Her fingers danced carefully on the corners of several of them and I nodded, giving the permission Sara looked for. She stood next to me, moving the photos and chuckling and smiling at the moments several of them captured.

I watched her manicured fingers move about my desk, her index tracing over Noa's figure, "She still thinks I don't know the secret of her glowing skin."

Sara was musing, "What?"

She grabbed a picture and showed it to me, "See how her skin glows?" I nodded and smiled, taking the picture I had been eying before Tristan and her interrupted my day, "She does it with her bronzer and coconut oil," she chuckled lightly, the sound damn near breaking my heart at the similarity it bore to her sister's, "Though, she'll never admit it, and that's ok because that's something she taught me," she paused again, sniffling, "I like that picture, a lot."

"I like it, too. It's my favorite out of all of these," I said, picking up another photograph from my desk, "Pick another favorite."

Sara hummed, moving pictures about when she found the one she liked. Noa was looking up at me with a small smile on her face, beaming up at me with those beautiful doe eyes she possessed. I was looking straight at the camera, and the funny thing of it all was, I didn't remember when she had turned to gaze up at me, "She gave you that exact same look the night of the mixer."

What? What mixer? T—The networking event? "What? How do you know that?"

Sara leaned her hip on my desk, picking up the photo in her hands, "You were too busy having a conversation with Grant when she looked at you that way. I knew then that she was in love with you. Even if she denied it, and even if she never said anything. It's sad that she waited for you to say it first."

"How do you know that, Sara? Did Noa tell you?" I mentioned with a smile.

"Noa doesn't have to say much, Trevor. She wears her feelings on her face and in her eyes, like our father did," she bit her lip and nodded slowly, "But, you know that already."

I scoffed and nodded, "I do. Why do you think I avoid her eyes when I've done something wrong?"

Sara laughed, "She gets that from Mami. And, you're right, it is scary," she giggled, "I just hope that she's not giving my niece or nephew that same look."

I winced at the mention of my child. I was hoping that she had forgotten—momentarily—about that topic. I could handle talking about Noa, I had to be able to handle it, but no one said anything about handling the mention of my child. At least I had the memory of what Noa looked like right after she would wake. How her nose would scrunch and her brow would furrow just before she turned on her back to stretch.

Or, how she would run her hands through my hair and kiss my jaw when she wanted me to wake. Or, how she would bite her lip and bring her hands to her hips before breathing out my name when she wanted to get her point across. I had memories of Noa, a full archive of them. Doing all types of common things, laughing, breathing, frowning, yelling… I had the memory of the taste of her lips, the bite of her teeth, and the lash of her tongue.

But, what memory did I have of my child? The sonograms. The kicks. The feel of Noa's belly against my body, and that was it. How could I remember someone I loved so blindly without having had met them before? How could I formulate a memory if I had no moments, no physical mold of whom I missed so… Who would they look like? Did they have my eyes? Did they have her plump lips? What about their skin tone? Was she Theodora Juliette Langan? Or, was he Harrison Luca Langan? Would they be Langan or whatever name they had given her in the program? Was she talking to the baby about me? Was she telling them how much I loved them both and missed them terribly? Were they born yet?

Sara must've seen my distressed look when her hand on my shoulder delivered a comforting squeeze, "I'm so sorry, Trevor. Here I am complaining about my losing my sister, but you lost the loves of your life. Single handedly the two most important people in your life at the moment. How selfish of me."

I shook my head and breathed out harshly, "You're not selfish. I understand where you're coming from. But yes, my child and the woman of my dreams are out there, somewhere without me, and I miss them. I miss them both terribly."

"I know," she begun.

"No, you don't know, Sara. I wish you did, but you don't," I said in a breathy whisper, "I was supposed to be there for the delivery. I was supposed to be there to sign the birth certificate. I was supposed to make her my wife. I was supposed to keep her happy. I was supposed to protect her, make her feel safe, and what did I do instead? Drove her away. Away from my arms, from the safety of our home; how am I supposed to live with that?"

Sara whimpered, "The same way we're all living with her absence. And, I get it, it hits harder for you because of the baby, but we can't give up hope now."

I nodded and sighed, "I just need to know that she's all right, that they're all right."

Sara shrugged, "No news is good news, right?"

I chuckled and shook my head, "I—Is that your life motto?" She nodded with a faint smile on her face, "No news is good news, indeed."

She was right. We needed to keep calm and we needed to remain positive. I knew she was under the protection of the Marshals and I knew she'd be safe in the program. The program was incredibly successful and seldom did the persons in their protection presented any problems or were placed in an awkward or compromising position. I knew they were going to be ok, but I still wouldn't be able to sleep or rest easily until they were both back in my arms. Until I knew for sure that I was mere inches from either of them. It wouldn't be enough; it will never be enough, not until they were back.

"It's her birthday today," I heard Sara said.

I nodded, "I know," I paused, "And here I am, torturing myself with her memory. What am I doing?"

Sara laughed, "You're loving her, Trevor. You're loving her from wherever she is at currently, you are loving her."

I smiled and looked at the picture in my hands, "I always am. Not matter the day, no matter the time, I will always love her."

A/N: These Trevor chapters always give me all the feels. Oh Noa, come back to your man!