The Love of Lady Dimitrescu X Female Reader || One-Shots

An Unending Sorrow

[Authors Note: I haven't been able to get this sad story out of my head for weeks. I have been craving angst really badly! As much as I love my fluff and happy endings, sometimes I need a good dose of sorrow. So, as a WARNING: This chapter includes a major character death and gun violence. This oneshot does not have a happy ending. If you do not want to be sad, then you may want to avoid reading this. I'm sorry, guys! 😭]

The primary negotiator, Miranda, remained cool-headed during the phone call. This three-hour-long negotiation was falling through. Your kidnapper wasn't interested in money. His motive was far more sinister. She had a gut feeling this would not end well, but she hadn't the heart to tell your wife that.

Miranda regarded the abandoned hotel with concern, looking from one busted window to the other, thinking she spotted someone's shadow on the fourth floor. "Just tell us what you want, and I'm sure we can come to an arrangement."

"I already told you!" a man growled into the phone. "I want justice! Your cop killed my brother! And now she's going to know what it's like to lose someone she loves."

Miranda heard you scream in the background, which made her flinch. "Do not harm the hostage. I repeat, do not harm the hostage. We can talk about this."

In her dark blue uniform, Alcina paced around the police cars. She had just gotten off the phone with Donna, asking her to watch after the girls until she got home with you. Her fingers twitched, itching to grab her firearm. She was losing her damn mind over what could be happening to you. Usually, you were the one who worried about her. The one who stayed up late during countless nights, waiting for her to come home to you and your daughters.

"Enough!" the man shouted. "No more talking! I'm sick of it!"

Miranda's heart dropped when she heard a gunshot. In all her years of being a hostage negotiator, she had never experienced terror quite like this before. The nameless terror of having failed you, the wife of her personal friend. How many weekends had she spent over at your house for barbecues? Eva loved to play with your daughters. She had the utmost respect for your family. "Move in! Move." Raising her hand, she motioned for the SWAT team to storm into the hotel.

Alcina hurried over to her. "What happened, Miranda? What did you hear? Tell me!"

With a vacant expression, the sandy-haired woman sighed. Her shoulders drooped, as did her entire face. "I'm sorry, Alcina. I did everything I could."

Your wife immediately sprinted toward the hotel, running past the SWAT team to rescue you herself. It was her duty to protect you. She had to save you before it was too late.

Once she was inside the dilapidated structure, whose walls were covered in moss, she waited for the SWAT team to catch up. Efficiently, they dispersed and started their search for you.

Their commander, Karl Heisenberg, clicked off his portable radio. "Alcina? Miranda suspects they're on the fourth floor. Follow us." His grip tightened on his M4 carbine. He held the rifle vertically with the buttstock tucked under his armpit. The barrel pointed upward and slightly forward.

They moved to the end of the hallway. Alcina followed Karl and his squad as they ascended the stairwell with urgency. Her heart pounded against her rib cage with every step she climbed. If he had hurt you, she would never forgive herself.

Reaching the fourth floor, Karl signaled for his team to press forward down the long and narrow hall. "Check every room!"

Several moments after he shouted his command, his radio crackled. Miranda's voice boomed through it. "We've captured the suspect! He attempted to flee through the parking lot."