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.

"Thank you, for everything" I sighed

"You haven't deserved any of this Jasmine, so you're more than welcome" He removed his fingers from my arm, shoving his hands into his pockets as he took a step back "Are you hungry?" His expression quickly changed, sensing the familiar brewing tension that I had

I nodded, following him into the house.

Sitting at the table, I was sorting through a case file box, organizing folders by color. Each time I found a red label, I felt curiosity peak within me, a dark side of me wanting to know the details, the horror story within.

Dawson stood in the kitchen, cutting fruit at the counter when I leaned back and gave a short sigh "I think I want to move state"

Dawson's eyes lifted to mine, confused at the sudden revelation

"All these files.." I flicked a folder "It's scary, I mean, I nearly went out with a man who assaulted and robbed women, that's been a real eye opener for me"

"If only you had known someone who could run background checks" Dawson tried to make a joke of it

I shook my head, leaning forward again "If I wasn't wary of men before, I'm ten times worse now, I don't think I'll be able to meet another man without thinking the absolute worst"

"You seemed pretty comfortable with Harding" Dawson retorted, his tone somewhat bitter

"That's different though" I shot "He's one of you, he's on my side"

"Not all cops are good Jasmine"

"What does that even mean? Not good as in, you don't like them because they work differently to you, or not good because they are crooked?" I quizzed, standing and walking towards the bar stool opposite him "How do I know you aren't a really good actor who is actually Wyatt and Trey's second cousin or something, and you're just waiting for the right opportunity to take me out?"

It was dramatic, and there was absolutely no doubt in my mind that he was pure and full of goodness. I wanted to make a point that despite his dislike for Harding and his way of doing things, he was still a good guy.

Dawson's eyes lifted prominently to mine, his hands pausing "What gave me away?"

He was a terrible actor, and the twitch of his lips gave him away instantly, earning a smile from me

"Wow, don't do that" I clicked my fingers in front of his face, making him blink "It's not good for your eyes, and you look like you're having some kind of silent seizure"

Dawson released his expression, laughing as he returned to the apple he was slicing through. Sitting opposite him, my fingers snuck out and stole away a slice of apple, popping it into my mouth when he paused again "Wow, don't do that" He watched me, mimicking me "I could cut your fingers off"

I rolled my eyes and moved my arm halfway out again, teasing the space. Each time I gained closeness of the other pieces, he made a small chop watching my face, our eyes caught in a stare with one another

"Don't do it" He shook his head "I don't get paid enough to deal with this kind of behavior"

His words had somehow struck a chord with me. Slowly my smile faded and I pulled my arm back. His sentence was a harsh reminder. This was a job to Dawson, this was work. The friendship we were forming, was it even real? Once this was all over, and we returned to reality, would my case be closed, would I disappear from his life like the box of evidence did? Dawson wasn't here because he wanted to be, neither was I, if he'd been given the option to swap places with another officer, would he?

"What's wrong?" He caught my expression instantly

I kept my eyes down on my hands on the bench "Nothing"

"Hey" He demanded my attention back with a gentle tone

I looked back up to him with a small fake smile "Seriously, it's all good"

Studying my expression for a moment, he brushed it off, continuing to cut fruit in front of me. Silence settled and I was uninterested in breaking it. I couldn't get too close, I couldn't afford to get attached to something that could potentially be ripped from me. This was not a real retreat, this was not a time to have fun and build friendships, this was a time for me to hide in wake of the threats that pursued me. Once this was over, Dawson and I would go back to our separate lives, it wouldn't be this way anymore.

When Dawson had finished, I'd taken my bowl of fruit to the back deck, sitting silently looking toward the lake as I ate. Thankfully, I'd been left alone, the silence having already suffocated us enough. Dawson could sense something had switched within me, and I'd hoped he'd realized that what he'd said had held meaning to me, to us both. This was a job, a paid job.