A/N: This drabble contains triggering material, particularly for those who are currently suffering from depression or experiencing suicidal ideation. If you fall into either category, please STOP reading immediately and go seek the assistance of a loved one or a trained medical professional now. They will be able to get you the help you need. Nothing is more valuable than your own life.

She woke up again to a colorless world. Great; here we go again. How incredibly ironic that the latter thought had once been her mantra for zipping through each mission, each challenge, each day with spunk and energy. Now, it was nothing more than a tired sigh.

Speaking of being tired, she felt as though she was in a perpetual state of exhaustion. How many hours had she slept last night again? Nine? Ten? It didn't matter. All she wanted was just to close her eyes and sink back into that blissful realm of slumber, where she wouldn't have to deal with her rapidly deteriorating relationship with her friends, the fact that her parents were all the way across the Atlantic, and the frightening realization that perhaps – just perhaps – she wasn't the strong, independent-minded young woman that everyone had once said she was anymore.

She tried closing her eyes again, but she simply could not fall back asleep in spite of her efforts. She heard Clover and Alex laughing outside, the faint clinks of metal as they tossed their dishes into the sink, and the running of tap water. It was as though she didn't exist in this house at all. Clover was busy talking about some cute new boy she had just met in one of her classes, and Alex was thrilled about the upcoming regional soccer championship. She couldn't even recall the last time she had been excited for anything at all.

Silently grumbling to herself, she finally managed to convince herself to roll out of bed and head to the bathroom to wash up. A few seconds after she locked the bathroom door behind her, she heard the front door slam, and then all was quiet. Clover had gone off to her date with the new boy, and Alex was headed for soccer practice, leaving her all alone.

Her reflection in the mirror showed a girl with unruly hair and an absolutely apathetic look in her eyes. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. She splashed some water on her face, combed her hair, and brushed her teeth, making no effort to beautify herself in any way besides taking care of the bare essentials. What was the point?

The emotional burden that she carried around seemed to be getting heavier with each passing day, and today it felt particularly heavy. Looking out of the penthouse windows, she saw that it was beginning to rain, a relatively rare occurrence in the midst of a southern California summer. That certainly wasn't helping her mood.

She recalled what Jerry had told her a few days earlier, that she needed to take care of herself and take some time off from work. She'd told him that she had barely eaten in the past few months; her spying technique had suffered as a result. She felt like she was a burden to everyone – to her parents, to her friends, to Jerry, and to WOOHP. She just wanted not to feel anything for once – nothing but pure numbness, as she would eventually disappear into oblivion.

But there was no way she could accomplish this by herself. She was getting so weak that she didn't even have it in her to finish this off once and for all. Being stuck in this unhappy middle ground was only leaving her gloomy. Her perception of others' emotions around her was also getting softer, taking the edges off of them. She could sense what others were feeling, but none of them really made a significant impact on her.

Then it struck her. How had she not thought of this earlier? There was one person who would be more than willing to assist her, considering how much he detested her and wanted nothing more than for her to be dead. Making up her mind, she resolved to make this decision her final one as she dressed herself and exited the house.

Half an hour later, she found herself standing outside his prison cell, knowing that there was no way out after this. She had to be ready to take the plunge at this point. It was all for the best. She let out the breath she'd been holding and opened the door using her agent ID, letting herself in.

His eyes snapped open as he looked up to see who his newest visitor was, and he was mildly surprised to see that it was Sam. Unsure of what she was doing here, considering that she had been so eager in the past to get him locked up in here, he tried to guess her intentions. Maybe she was here to transport him to another maximum security holding facility. About to make a snide remark, he stopped short when he realized that he was looking at a very different girl from the one he knew so well. Her face was pale, with a slight grayish tinge to it, and her normally smooth, fiery red hair had lost its shine. The defiant look that was one of her signature characteristics was noticeably gone.

Before he had time to ask her what had happened, she spoke. "Tim," she began, using his first name since there was no purpose in deriding the man who was her only hope for getting her out of this rut permanently, "I need your help. I'm sad and tired and I can't do this anymore. Do what you've always wanted to me; I don't want to resist." With her last words, she sat down next to him in a sluggish slump, closing her eyes and waiting for him to brutally murder her at any second. Why wouldn't he? She had just invaded his privacy; besides, it was precisely what both of them wanted.

She didn't notice that he was staring at her with an expression of pure shock that eventually turned to sorrow as he figured out what she was getting at, and he could safely say that he didn't like it at all. Whatever had happened to her, he couldn't bear seeing her in this state. A few moments later, she felt his strong arms wrap around her, and she smiled secretly to herself, knowing that she was right to count on him for this. He was most likely about to squeeze or suffocate her to death.

But the attack never came. Instead, much to her surprise, he seemed to be holding her in a warm, comforting embrace. Then she felt him lean down and press his cheek against hers, while whispering gently.

"As much of a pest as you can be, you don't deserve to die Samantha."

She felt his cheek tighten as his lips curled into a tiny smirk, and he pulled her closer towards him. And it was at that moment in time, while resting in the arms of her worst enemy, that Sam discovered that she didn't think she deserved to die either.

She smiled again, this time in gratitude to him that he had decided to spare her life, and returned his embrace.