7 Minutes ✧ Syndisparklez

Repair

~~Some Background~~
While my taxi was racing through streets, my destination was awaiting me with plenty of tension and tears. A short man, who had just escaped trauma earlier in the year, was now panicking because the one person he could trust, was not answering her phone. Shaky voices were sobbing, a protective boyfriend was searching for his gun. However, all the chaos would be immediately halted with multiple desperate knocks at the door.

I was expecting the door to open, revealing the terrified face of my best friend. I was going to give him a hug, offering comfort to the sobbing man. Instead, I was greeted with a threatening, metal barrel of a gun, aimed directly between my furrowed eyebrows.

"Tom, put the gun down," I demanded.

"Holy shit, get in here."

"Ingrid!" Jordan gasped, running into my arms. "She's with us, she's okay," he spoke into a phone.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"E-Ethan," Jordan blurted out. I could hear muffled shouts from the other line. "He said he wants to talk to you."

Grabbing the smooth, small phone in my hands, I prepared to face my seething partner in crime. Ethan and I have been through a lot together. I was his "best man" at his wedding, he has saved my life on multiple occasions, and he even stayed with me in the hospital when I had no one else.

Holding the phone up to my ear, I could already hear his heavy breathing.

"Hello?"

"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?"

"I-"

"YOU WEREN'T ANSWERING YOUR FUCKING PHONE, DIDN'T TELL ANYONE WHERE YOU WERE, YOU FUCKING DISAPPEARED. WE THOUGHT YOU WERE KIDNAPPED OR KILLED, GOD DAMN IT INGRID!"

"Ethan, I-"

"GOD DAMN IT!"

~~A Definition~~
Panic
1. sudden uncontrollable fear or anxiety, often causing wildly unthinking behavior.

"Ethan, I'm okay."

"Well, I know that now," he huffed. "Listen, just... Stay with Tom and Jordan, I'm coming over there and-"

"I want all the information you have."

"I can't give you that, I just need you three safe-"

"Give me all the information you have on James and Olvier," I repeated myself.

"Ingrid-"

"Give me-"

"I don't have any! There is no information, they're practically off the grid! The last know sighting of them is from the prison, that's it! No witnesses, no leads, just a low quality video from the prison's security cameras. We don't know their whereabouts, so we need you three to stay under captivity at all times."

My stomach turned, I wanted to throw up.

"Ethan, no, I-"

"Give the phone to Tom," he demanded.

"Wait, but-"

The phone was snatched out of my hands, as Jordan led me to his and his boyfriend's shared bedroom. Plans and ideas raced through my head, options I had to throw away because their whereabouts are unknown.

~~Something I Miss About Being Human~~
The determination. I don't have any motivation here.
I want that back.

Tom locked the door from the outside, leaving Jordan and I in a room alone. It was a cozy room, fluffy blankets and pillows creating a homey atmosphere. Too bad the heaviness of the situation ruined that.

Tom's muffled voice was speaking to Ethan on the phone. He sounded stern, and serious. He wasn't the terrified man I had met a few months prior, shaking as he watched his boyfriend strapped to a hospital bed. It's interesting, really. I Remember the exact day I introduced myself to Tom. It was a couple days before Jordan woke up, maybe three. Ethan had assigned me to the case, a kidnapping case.

~~The Meeting~~
"Hello Tom, I'm Ms. Mulaney, I will be your boyfriend's attorney. Don't worry, he's in good hands."
The same speech given to every client I've ever had. It seemed to calm down their anxious demeanors. Odd, how words can provide so much comfort to people.
"Ms. Mulaney-" my newest client, the scared brown eyes tore a hole into my heart. "Please... Lock him up."

My eyes were glued forward on the door in front of me. The intricate designs the wood had naturally formed, distracted me from the pain I was feeling in my gut. I failed.

I promised Tom I would lock James up. I promised I would put a criminal, a kidnapper, a rapist, a terrorist, behind bars. And I didn't. So now, my client, the person I was supposed to help, is standing outside of that door with a gun in his hand.

"Ingrid," a whisper snuck in between the disappointed voices echoing in my head. His small hand grasped onto mine. "I'm scared."

I need to fix this.

"I am too, Jordan... But it'll be okay. I promise."

~~A Spoiler~~
I keep my promises.