Pragma

t r í a n d a é n a

Trigger warning: Domestic violence, torture

Your phone rang. It was an unknown number.

"Hello, it's y/n l/n" you said, leaning up against your dinner table.

"Y/n it's... it's me..."

"No, you... you're..." you began in a low voice, almost a whisper, when the words got stuck in your throat. You could feel how your breathing got unstable, noticed how your shaky hand had travelled up in front of your mouth and how your eyes had locked in place, staring at a random spot on the wall.

"I'm here" he said in a deep, hoarse, and ill-sounding voice.

"But Midas you... I saw you leave the island, I just... people have been so worried for you!" the words somehow got out of your trembling body as you sat down in a chair, keeping your eyes fixated on the spot on the wall as you tried to understand what was happening.

"Shh... shh, y/n" he said low. He was tired and exhausted; it was easy to hear. He had been through so much in the past month, he deserved peace, he deserved just one day where he didn't have to work or do anything, a day where he could focus on himself. Only him. Nobody else.

"Are you alright?" you asked concerned, not moving your hand away from your mouth.

"I'm uhh... I'm alive" he said in the same low tone with that fucked-up voice.

"Yeah, but how are you doing?" you asked.

"I'll be alright" he said. There was silence for some time, giving you time to try and comprehend how he was and what he was going through.

"Tek told me how you've tried to call all the agents" Midas said low, coughing after his sentence. It wasn't a normal cough, it was one of those coughs that comes from deep inside your lungs, a cough you can feel all the way down your throat and inside your chest.

"I was a bit worried..." you admitted low, blinking, and looking down to the floor.

"You've called them no less than five times every day for the past three weeks, y/n" he said with a slight grin.

"Yeah... I have... why don't their numbers exist anymore?" you said low and bit your lip out of worry.

"Because of safety. If anybody would get hold of your phone, they shouldn't be able to call The Agency" Midas explained and let out a tired breath.

"Oh..."

"Yeah..."

"Where are you right now? Are you in Europe?" you asked, fiddling with a pen with your free hand.

"I'm at a recovery facility in Switzerland" he said low, probably not wanting you to know. "It's my last day here, y/n, I have been clean for a month tomorrow" he said in a slightly happier voice.

"I'm so happy to hear that, Midas, that's great" you said with a little smile, actually feeling happy for him.

"Thank you so much, y/n" he said in the same slightly happy tone.

"When will you be back here?" you asked out of curiosity.

"Hopefully tomorrow, it all depends on what the rehab-people says. They have to evaluate me and my health, including my mental health, and declare me healthy enough to go back to the island" he explained with a sigh.

"Wow that's rather complicated, don't you think?" you said with a small grin on your lips.

"I don't mind it, it is my health we're talking about, and I really don't want to have a relapse" he spoke.