He didn't know what he was still doing there. He and his buddy had found who they were looking for, gotten him out of the crackhouse, and taken him someplace to clean up. Sean could leave the area and go make his report. But something was drawing him to walk around the block. Maybe he thought he would find more people who weren't supposed to be there. Or maybe he just needed a moment. Finding a friend strung out like that was difficult to get over. Sean had to take a breather, walk around the block a bit. After a while, he was thinking about heading back to the car and facing the reality of the situation. That was when he heard the woman's screams.

They were coming from the house he just passed. Instantly, he ran inside. Sean wasn't sure what he was going to see, but it didn't matter; the only thing that did was to help the woman. She was fighting on the bed against a couple of men. Although she was trying her hardest, it was a losing battle. The men were much stronger than her. Sean didn't hesitate before attacking. The drug dealers were easy targets, and were either unconscious or ran away after only a minute.

As Sean was turning to face the woman, who appeared even younger than he was, a gun went off. The bullet lodged in the doorframe above his head. He ducked regardless of the bad aim, quickly spinning to see where the shot had come from. The young woman was holding the pistol with trembling hands. She must've picked it up to defend herself during the fight. Carefully, Sean approached her with hands raised and voice low, "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

She didn't believe him; she tried to fire off the gun a second time. Sean managed to rip the weapon out of her weak grip, before she could hurt herself. He unloaded it, and tossed it aside, "I'm serious. My name is Sean Pierce, and I want to help you."

And he did. Not just because she desperately needed help, if her visible withdrawal symptoms were of any indication. Or because he was afraid someone else might stumble in there and take advantage of her while she was in that state. But because there was something in her bright blue eyes that called to him. Despite her fear, she was staring at him with such strength and determination that he was in awe. Most people would've let the experience break them. She seemed to have been facing it down head on, never willing to back down.

Even as Sean extended a comforting hand to her, she regarded him with guarded trepidation. He had to prove himself to her. He had to earn her trust, "You're probably wondering why I'm here. It's not to score, or scam some unsuspecting girl. One of my Navy buddies was shooting up down here. My partner and I came to get him clean. I heard your screams and ran off to help you. That's all I want to do."

Although she sniffed, continued to tremble, and turned even paler, she scoffed. Sean didn't take offense to her disbelief and scorn; it meant she was well enough to judge him. He could work with that. Pulling out his wallet, he showed her his military ID. He held it close enough for her to see, but not to reach. Trust went both ways, "See. Lieutenant Commander Sean Mason Pierce. I come in peace."

She scrutinized the picture and his face for a long time. After a while, she crumbled in on herself in pain. She let out a grunt, squeezing her eyes shut. Sean moved closer to her overcome with concern. He tried to rest reassuring hands on her, but she pulled herself away sharply. That didn't seem to help the pain. He settled for placing his hands next to her on the bed instead, "Are you alright? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

"No," That was the first word she said to him and it was full of stubbornness. She wasn't going anywhere, "No shelters either. I just need…"

"A hit," Sean completed her sentence for her. Her enraged blue eyes met his judgmental hazel. He didn't mean to come on so strong with his disdain. He understood that addiction was a disease, and it took time to heal from that. But the young woman appeared to have been fighting through so much already. She could at least fight that.

Frustrated, she shoved him away. She was trying to get out of the bed and walk out of the room, "I don't need a hit. And I don't need you."

At least she got to her feet. But a few steps towards the door, and she stumbled in pain. Sean was there to catch her. Her skin, thought moist with sweat, was cold. She was really going to battle the withdrawal out of stubbornness and spite, all because he had made an assumption about her. He wasn't going to admit it outloud, but he was really starting to like her, "Alright fine. But we need to get out of here."

The men Sean had knocked unconscious were starting to stir. They needed to get out of there before trouble started. However, the young woman broke out of his hold, and glared at him, "'We'? Don't you have to be somewhere?"

If the phone vibrating in his pocket was any indication, yes he did have to be somewhere. But he could call them back and explain everything later. His partner was taking care of their buddy, and so would the medics. When Sean had to make his official report about what happened, how the PTSD was just too much for his friend, then he'd go back to base. But in that moment, she took precedence, "Nope. I'm taking your somewhere safe."

"You're not leaving me?" She was so bewildered by the idea, that she let him support her weight as they walked out of the crackhouse. Sean's heart broke at her statement. She was probably used to everyone letting her down. The fact that a complete stranger was willing to help her seemed almost impossible to her. Sean wasn't going to abandon her. That decision was abundantly clear to him.

"Never. You're stuck with me forever," He let his sentence drop off. It was a silent invitation for her to share her name with him- to trust him.

There was a slight pause before she replied softly, "Alex. My name is Alex."