Instantly, I could see that he was angry at me and I partly understood why. Despite feeling uncomfortable and disheartened by his frustration, I did not regret doing what I did. I had needed it. I'd come to terms with the idea of not being found where we were, we were safe, and I'd been cooped up for far too long.

Moving to the fridge I pulled out my bottle of cold water, turning to face the wrath

"Leaving a note like this" He held my small piece of scrawled on paper up "Isn't good enough"

"I'm sorry" I shrugged "I just needed to get out for a bit" I tried to remain casual

He was shaking his head unsatisfied "Yeah, okay then" He scoffed, his hands on his hips on the other side of the island counter opposite me

I hadn't seen him this way before, this was a new side to Dawson, it was confrontational, uncomfortable to have him angry at me, I didn't like it and I sure as hell didn't want to argue with him. I wasn't going to make a big deal of it. I wouldn't do it again, just to save the fight.

Moving to the back open doors, I kicked my shoes off on the decking, sitting myself down outside in the sun.

Once still, the pumping blood within my body eased, stinging pain on my right leg catching my attention. I cringed and leaned over to examine what I'd earlier briefly noticed.

The twig I had tripped over had inflicted more damage than originally thought.

A long rigid cut traced from my ankle around 5 inches upwards. Blood smeared around the wound, unattended to, left to dry during my walk back.

I gave a sigh and sat back up, unbothered by the insignificant wound.

"You okay?" My inspection hadn't gone unnoticed, Dawson standing on the decking not too far from me, his eyes between my face and leg

"Yeah, it's fine, just caught a branch" I shrugged, brushing it off while I leaned back, soaking up the last of the sun

Momentarily, he had disappeared, and I assumed that it had been the end of our small confrontation, but he quickly returned with a small first aid kit. He walked toward me and sat on the edge of the table in front of me, opening the little red box beside him, slightly adjusting the holstered weapon and badge on his belt

I watched carefully, but attempted not to seem too interested in what I knew was about to occur. He clicked his fingers for my leg, patting his right knee. I hesitated, but when our eyes met, I lifted my leg to do as I was instructed.

"It's fine, really" I reassured him, the contact of my leg on his causing me to shift

"Until it gets infected and your leg needs to be amputated" He mumbled, shooting me a look before pressing tissue soaked in antiseptic against my open skin

"That was dramatic" I spoke back in between clenched teeth, the wound hurting more than it had in the first place

"Sorry" His hands pressed down, cleaning the blood and dirt debris

My toes clenched inside my socks, my hands gripping the side of the lounge chair. Silence threatened to suffocate the moment, and Dawson had probably felt it too when he spoke

"Did you achieve what you set out to achieve then?"

"My walk?" I watched him, his eyes on my leg, his fingers cautious

"Yes, your walk"

"In a sense, although it was a little hard to completely release the stress when I knew that upon my return you would be angry with me" I admitted

"Can you understand why?" He shot

I half nodded, half shrugged "I guess so"

Swiping the remainder of blood from my leg, he let out a lengthy sigh "I'm just trying to keep you alive, that's all"

"And I hope you know how grateful I am to you for that" I quickly told him, genuinely thankful

"I know" He began drying the wound, applying a cream to protect from further infection "And despite my disapproval for you having left without consulting me first, I do try to understand what it must be like to be in your position"

I couldn't help but smile "I know"

The silence had settled, instead, this time it hadn't been uncomfortable. The tension was gone, and I was relieved for that.

A few minutes later, he had successfully tended to my injury, slowly lifting my foot back down to the ground

"Will I live?" I asked, watching him organize the now in disarray med box

"Well it's no gunshot wound, so I think the odds are in your favor" He joked back, his eyes meeting mine

Curiosity struck me, and the words came out before I could stop them "Do you know what that feels like? I mean.. have you ever been shot?" I was stumbling

He adjusted his position in front of me, slightly inclined toward me "I've only been in this job for a short 4 years, but I've had my fair share of near deaths" Surprisingly he hadn't seemed put off by my question, but I wasn't sure I had been ready for the answer

This time, I had moved forward towards him "Wait, what? Someone, someone shot you?"

He nodded "I was too self confident in my early years as a cop, I moved in without back up and I took a bullet for it, I think it hurt my ego back then more than anything"

I blew out a breath of air, remembering the small scar near his shoulder within the first few days we had arrived "Where, where did?.." I was being intrusive now, completely interested in his story

"My shoulder" He answered before I had finished, holding his left shoulder "It was a lucky shot the doctor told me"

Before I could catch up with the information he had already given me, he began to unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt, just enough to remove the clothing from his shoulder. I swallowed hard, but watched him carefully. Instantly, my eyes caught his intention, a matching small scar in between his shoulder bone and chest, the same as the back

"He was right, that is a lucky shot" I added, leaning closer, tempted to place my fingers over the bare skin "It could have hit your aorta, artery or heart.." I stumbled off, tracing the muscles of his shoulder with my gaze. It took me a few seconds to realize how close we had become, how concentrated I had been staring at his exposed skin when I pulled back "Sorry"

He hinted a crooked smile as he stared back at me "It's fine"

I readjusted myself backwards again "It must have been scary, that moment.."

He shrugged, re-buttoning his shirt "A little"

"Just a little? You weren't afraid of dying? Bleeding out?" My eyebrows creased together in the middle

His face slightly changed, his eyes dropping to the ground before he pulled back, shifting "When my grandparents passed, my outlook had changed, it.. I didn't.. I don't find the idea of death as scary as what I suppose a normal person would, I mean, people die everyday"

"You wouldn't care if you died? Even now?" I was again staring at him in disbelief, attempting to decipher him as his eyes averted anywhere but near me

It was quiet, and I wasn't sure he was going to answer until his eyes finally turned toward mine "Of course I want to live, of course I don't want to die, but if it were to happen.. everything would be alright, the world would go on.."

My brain was working hard to understand his thought process when it hit me. My assumption was just that, an assumption. Dawson barely had any family ties left, all he had, was work. He lived for his job, and he would die for it because there was nothing else he could hold on to. It was morbid and upsetting.

I was shaking my head, slightly agitated "That's.." I stumbled, I needed to say something firm for him to understand his worth, something that would assure him that it would not be as simple as him leaving and everything being the same, because it wouldn't be "You have purpose here Dawson" I began "If you.. if I had known you back then, like I do now, I would have slapped you and told you that you should have been scared, you should have been terrified of dying in that moment, because you are needed here, it wouldn't just be the same if you weren't here, your life, it means something to your colleagues, Isaia, to your mother, your dad, to your friends, to.. me.."

The air around us had grown undeniably thick, our eyes connecting "Being afraid of losing something or someone is better than having no fear at all"

He was listening to what I was saying, absorbing it, I could see it in his face as we remained staring at one another. It made me frustrated that he hadn't understood how valuable his life was, and if I was going to survive my ordeal because of him, he needed to know just how important he was to exist, even just for me.

"Jasmine.." His voice was soft, his eyes roaming my face "I...-" His sentence was cut short by the intrusive ringing of his mobile inside of his pants pocket. Instantly our connection was torn apart and the world surrounding us continued on as normal, as though it hadn't just frozen for Dawson and I.

He pressed it to his ear and stood, his posture stiffening as I caught my breath and leaned back with my hand over my forehead. I was trying to comprehend the moment, what it had meant, for me, to me, but it was the conversation Dawson was having that overtook my attention. His eyebrows were furrowed together as he listened carefully.

"No problem, that's good news I guess" He told the person on the other end, his eyes occasionally looking towards me, telling me that it had to of been about me.

I watched and waited until he hung up, and then he turned, his hands on his hips

"They've formally charged the brothers, multiple charges have been laid.." He revealed, carefully watching for my reaction

I hesitated before answering, ensuring my voice wouldn't crack at the revelation "That's good right?"

He nodded "They'll be processed and held for an arraignment, pending what they plead, a court date will be set"

I blew out a breath of air and leaned forward on my knees, nausea rising. Eventually I had been expecting it, but when the moment came, I was terrified. I wasn't sure how I would or could properly prepare myself to face Trey and Wyatt face to face, stand up in court in front of them and recount the horrible things they had done to not only my life, but Tony's. They wanted me dead, they scared me to the absolute core, and now, I was going to have to face them for their violent actions against me and my friend.

I tried not to panic, standing and straightening my back out, Dawson took a step towards me "It's going to be rough, but you'll get through it, and then this will be over"

"Will it be though, ever?" I scoffed "We both know Trey and Wyatt have friends, we both know that if they go away for this they'll probably only want me dead more"

He took another step toward me, his hand reaching out for my arms over my chest, guarding myself, my emotions

He shook his head "Lets just take one day at a time, okay? You won't be alone in this, ever again, you won't have to deal with this by yourself, no matter what the outcome, take comfort in that if nothing else" He tried, his fingers on my upper arm beginning to soothe lines up and down

I nodded, attempting to control my breathing as I looked upwards to his eyes, soft and in control. I took comfort in knowing I wouldn't have to do any of it alone. Since my parents had died, it had been the only way I had ever known things, but now, I didn't have to face them on my own