Solace had no clue what to do when someone was having a panic attack. It was even worse when said person had asthma.

Breathe. That's the obvious answer. That's what Sage should do.

But it was harder said than done when he was agitated and panicky. It didn't help that Solace was freaking out herself. Not only was Sage a total mess, but they were also trapped in her bosses' office and lost track of the painting. She had no idea how to get out of this situation. Her mind was glitching, and she was too busy worrying over him to even fabricate a plan. The notion that he was stuck working with dangerous people had struck her, but not as hard as it struck him.

His trembling hands were trying to dig through the pockets of his coat, but he was clearly struggling. Sage was pale as a sheet, and his chest heaved in rapid motions as he leaned against the door on the floor. He opened his mouth to speak, the words coming out breathlessly. "Inhaler," he choked out.

Right, yes, the inhaler. She quickly made it to his side and sank to the ground. Her hands patted the pockets of his coat, and she wondered how she got to the point of voluntarily wanting to touch him. It's so he doesn't pass out from the lack of oxygen flowing to his brain, Solace. You don't need to lug a six-foot-something boy out of the office. Her hand felt something in his left pocket, and it rattled against the objects inside. She pulled out a key with the word, SoSo, scribbled on it.

"How did you get a copy of my apartment key?" she asked incredulously. She was thinking about how he got in and out of the house without anyone opening the door for him. Had he swiped her key and made a copy? He always left her wondering

"Solace," he gritted out, his hands tightening their hold on the carpet beneath them.

"Not the time, got it," she muttered and felt around the pocket until her hand found the inhaler. She pulled it out and brought it to his lips. His shaking hands wrapped around hers as he pressed down on the button and inhaled deeply.

Sage closed his eyes and took another puff. His breathing had started to settle, but he still shook and gasped for air. He was still taking shallow breaths, and the inhaler would only do so much.

"You have to breathe," ordered Solace. "Inhale deeply with your nose and exhale with your mouth." That was what she did after going out for a run. It applied to this situation, too, right?

Like always, he wasn't listening to her. Why did he never listen to her? Sage's eyes were still shut as he struggled to get a proper breath in. Begrudgingly, Solace placed her hands on either side of his face. It felt cool and clammy with sweat. She pushed away her need to wipe her hands against his coat.

"Open your eyes, dumbass," she commanded, smacking his face multiple times. She had dreamt about slapping Sage in the face for years, but she never thought it would be like this. It wasn't as fulfilling. "Open them, or I swear I will rip off your eyelids."

That threat finally got his eyes to flutter open. If it wasn't for the serious moment, she knew he would've thrown a snarky comment her way.

"Follow me," Solace said. She inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled. He followed her, synchronized with her breathing and the movement of her chest.

It wasn't until a minute later did Sage begin to calm down. His breathing went back to baseline, but his skin still felt cold under her touch. He was no longer shivering, and his intense gaze pierced into her. She was so close she could see his long eyelashes like spun silk and even in the little light, his honeyed eyes glowed. His hot breath tickled her lips while her fingertips skimmed the edges of his hair that curled around his ears.

"You okay?" she asked loudly as if he had gone deaf from his attack.

His voice was hoarse when he spoke. "You give me migraines."

She slapped him one more time for good measure.

"I'm not unconscious. Stop hitting me," hissed Sage, swatting her hands away.

With the force, she wavered on the tips of her feet and fell onto her butt with humph. "Just double-checking," she remarked with a small smirk.

"Asshole," he grumbled, rubbing the side of his cheeks that were beginning to get some colour. She didn't know if it was from the excessive slapping or the oxygenated blood returning to his face.

The two of them sat in the dark with nothing but the flashlight to cast some light. Neither of them said anything from the dramatic events that ensued just minutes ago. He had been so terrified at the thought of his freedom being taken away that he had a full-on panic attack. She had wrapped her mind around what he had gone through, but she couldn't fully understand it either. It had taken a complete toll on him from a boy who rarely had attacks to two of them in a span of a week.

But he was back and clear-headed now. Solace needed him to use his assassin/spy skills he had gained and fashion them a way out of here. There was no explanation that could possibly make sense if Senator Moore showed up here in the morning wondering what two teenagers, one of them being his intern, were doing camped up in his office. They couldn't bust down the door. It would leave evidence. He couldn't pick the lock from the inside, either. There was no keyhole. So, unless Sage had a tool kit stowed away in his backpack to unscrew the hinges and then screw them back on, there was no way out of here. Not one that she could see, at least.

She glanced over at him to see his eyes scanning the entirety of the office. He was scheming and hopefully figuring a way out of this mess. Should she say something? There was never a time she was speechless when it came to Sage. But after his six-month return, she found herself at a loss for words. We have already established that I am absolute crap at comforting people. I'll just wait for him to speak. Yeah, that's a good plan.

And for a few more minutes, the air between them was silent but tense. She wasn't going to make the first move, and she almost sighed in relief when Sage spoke up.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled embarrassedly, his gaze fixated on the spot where the painting used to be.

"You have a lot to apologize for like being an idiot, or eating all my food, or using all my body soap. And all those years in high school where you drove me up the wall with your –"

"Are you going somewhere with this?"

This is not the time to be insulting Sage. You can do that later. "You have a lot to apologize for, but this isn't one of them," Solace assured, turning her head towards him.

"I'm supposed to be the 'expert' on this," Sage said, using quotation marks as he sulked. "But I had a panic attack ten minutes into the entire mission and got us locked in."

Usually, Solace would agree and encourage his self-pity. She would even throw in several insults just to spice it up and make things more fun. But she knew this wasn't the time or place, especially when he genuinely felt bad for letting his emotions get the best of him.

"You're kind of a shit spy. I'm not going to lie." Damn it, you couldn't even go five seconds. The comment earned her a you-suck-at-this-and-quit-speaking kind of look. "But it's not your fault. Panic attacks aren't something you can control, okay," Solace said, feeling satisfied with herself.

Sage's eyes flickered over to her momentarily and nodded. "Did you hear Moore talking about moving the painting?" he asked as if he desperately needed to change the topic.

"No, but it was here the last time I came in." Her mind went back to a few days when she was at the office. No one had said anything about the Servus Autem Fortuna. But she did have an idea of something that could tell then where it may have gone.

Solace got to her feet quickly, ignoring Sage's curious look. She walked over to behind the desk and pushed back the leather chair. She had never been on this side of the desk before. The office was just as nice on the other side, but even she felt the power of being behind a mahogany desk that overlooked an expensive office. She began to ruffle through the drawers, searching through the files and stationery, hoping to find the leather black book Moore always had. She wished he didn't take it home with him, and her wishes were answered when she found it on the bottom drawer, lying beneath a box of chocolate.

"What are you doing?" Sage wondered as he stumbled to his feet and walked over to her.

Solace flipped through the leather book, looking for the dates of the past week. "Moore keeps everything in his schedule. All his meetings, deliveries, and lunch with his wife. If he had someone move the painting, it should be in here."

A grin broke out on Sage's face. "You will hear this once and never again, so take it in now. Solace I-Don't-Know-You're-Middle-Name Laurent, you are a genius."

"Tell me something I don't know," she muttered as her eyes scanned the pages. She didn't need any validation when it came to her intelligence. Certainly not from a boy. But it was nice to hear it. Solace spared him a glance to find him still grinning. He was back to his usual self, colour and all. Well, maybe he could use another smack in the face.

So far, all Solace knew was Moore sure loved his wine tasting and goat yoga with his wife as he had three trips in one week. She passed through some more useless nonsense until she saw words scribbled in red on the date from two days.

Movers coming to pick up fortune painting at 12. Call housekeepers and remind them to make space in the art room.

She read it out loud for Sage, and her own grin curled at her lips.

He began pacing the room, his excitement rolling off him in palpable waves. His hands were tugging at his hair and then tapping his lips as he reevaluated and reformed their plan. "Okay, so we had a minor setback."

"Eh, I would say major setback."

Sage halted in his steps long enough to give her a nasty look and then began walking again. "I was trying to be positive. But, yeah, it's major. Breaking into his house is going to be a lot tougher than the office, but I can do it."

"We can do it," she corrected with a roll of her eyes.

"Technicalities," he waved off. "I just need some time to formulate another plan."

"Sage, that's great and all, but we have to figure out how we're going to get out of here."

He paid her no attention as he continued to pace and mutter incomprehensible things under his breath. He was talking to himself, but the way his eyes were wide and how his hands moved sporadically, Sage looked like a crazed person.

Solace sighed, placing the planner back where it was. "I don't know if you noticed while you were gasping for air like a dying fish," she said loudly this time, "but we're locked in."

Sage stopped his pacing and glared at her. "First of all, I hate you."

"Glad we're on the same page."

"And second of all, I already figured it out." At her confused expression, he pointed down the office to the air vent beside the bookshelves.

She frowned at the thought of crawling through a small space that led to lord knows where. But it was their only choice. There wouldn't be any automating fans in the vent that would slice them into a thousand pieces and splattering their blood and guts until the entire building smelled like the rotting dead, right? Oh, no. Bad thoughts. Those are not positive, friendly thoughts. Solace groaned at the picture she created and haunted herself with. This night was getting worse and worse.

A smirking Sage sauntered over to the vent and pried it open. "Assholes first," he announced and dramatically motioned for her to get in.

She rolled her eyes and sulked over to him. She didn't want to be the first one in. Being the leader always led to dying first. Well, that was what happened in horror movies. That was why if Solace was ever in a paranormal and slasher situation, she would be in the middle and let the others sacrifice themselves. Alas, this was not a horror movie, and she had no desire to be staring at Sage's butt.

After Sage shoved her backpack through the vent and placed his palms facing up to help boost her up. "I don't need your help," she said, ignoring his assistance.

"Knock yourself out." He raised his arms in mock defense. "Literally," muttered Sage.

His words were laced with amusement and uncertainty at her ability to hoist herself up. That just angered her further, so she determinately gazed up at the vent and rubbed her hands against her jacket. Sure, she had little upper body strength, and her arms were the size of twigs, but her sheer need to prove Sage wrong was enough to fuel her. At least, she hoped it did. Otherwise, this would be straight up embarrassing.

Solace placed her hands at the bottom of the vent and jumped off her feet to gain some momentum. It wasn't the most graceful thing ever, and she heard the faint chuckled from Sage, but she disregarded him. The material of her sleeves was slippery, and it didn't help with acquiring traction, but she used her feet to skid against the wall and hoisted herself forward. Half of her upper body was in the vent. She was almost there.

She realized she looked ridiculous, and if someone had walked into the office to see more than half of her body dangling out of the vent, it would have brought upon a load of shame. Nonetheless, Solace was a prideful person, so she kept squirming, attempting to grab anything, but all she was met with was cool flat metal.

"This is just getting sad," Sage murmured as he unexpectedly placed either of his hands on her hips. Her face warmed at his touch when he easily lifted her forward until her entire upper body was in the vent.

"I can take it from here," she snapped when his hands were still on her hips. A moment later, his hands were off, and she could finally breathe again. And now she was annoyed, but she wasn't sure with whom – herself for failing to lift her body weight or him coming to her help. I hate him.

As she cursed him silently, the vent creaked as he entered the vent. She heard him shut the panel and took it as her cue to start crawling. It wasn't big, but it was large enough for her small body frame. She just knew Sage was having an issue, but she didn't hear any verbal complaints.

They crawled forward as they pushed their backpacks along with them. The route was straight for a while and all that could be heard was their breathing and the screeching of the vent. It wasn't until they reached a diverging path. Solace had no clue which way to go, and neither did Sage.

"Left, or right?" she grunted.

"Right," he suggested.

She went left.

"What was the point of asking me?" Sage questioned with an irritated sigh.

"I wanted to show you just how much I care about your opinion."

She basically heard his eyes rolling. "I know the mission didn't go exactly as planned," he started.

Solace scowled, taking a right this time around. "It has gone to absolute shit. Like a dog took a large crap on the plan, set it on fire, extinguished it, and then lit a bomb."

"You think I wanted to spend my night crawling in a vent and staring at your ass?"

She attempted to swivel her head around and set him on fire with her look, but the space was too small for her to do that. "Don't you dare look at my ass."

Sage chuckled dryly. "I'd rather gouge my eyes out."

Solace would volunteer to do that for him. She was mad. No, mad was when he ate her cake. She was furious now. She was bursting at the seams of all the anger simmering inside her. All her worry and fear had morphed into something more productive. The next move was non-existent. They were going in blind, directionless. That was a big no in Solace's books.

"I hate you, Sage," she announced so loudly, her voice echoed.

"I hate you, too, SoSo," he remarked, his tone bored and uninterested.

"Call me that one more time, and I will kick you in the face." She had the perfect opportunity to sock him in the face like a horse does with their hind legs. His precious and irritating face was right there behind her, just begging to be kicked.

"Do that, and I will not hesitate to pin you to the vent and crawl on top of you," Sage threatened, his voice low with warning.

"Oh, fuck off, you –" Her insult was cut short when all of a sudden, the vent turned downwards into a slide. She had no time to recuperate when she slid forward with a surprised yelp. Sage must have been caught up in his own thoughts as he glided down behind her.

Solace was dropping headfirst on the slide from hell. She attempted to catch onto something, but it was to no avail when a panel came into view. Her backpack smacked into it, and it cluttered to the ground. Before she could stop herself, she dove into the ground of a new office and landed on her stomach with a groan.

She had just caught her breath when Sage landed behind her. She let out a humph at the weight on her back, letting her cheek rest on the cool floor to catch her racing breath.

"I'm okay," Sage said. "I landed on something soft."

"Yeah, you landed on me!" she exclaimed, smacking him. "Get off!"

"My bad," he laughed as he stumbled to his feet. "Thanks for cushioning my fall."

Solace exhaled deeply, swatting his out-reached hand away as she stood up. She rubbed her back with a grimace pulling at her lips. "I hate you," she whispered.

"I think we've already established that."

She turned her gaze away from him, worried that if she saw his taunting smirk, she would break. Instead, she focused her energy on examining the new space they landed in. The high-rise windows weren't shut by curtains and the lights from the city illuminated the room. It appeared to be a conference room with a large round table in the center and chairs surrounding it. A projector hung from the ceiling, facing a white screen that must have been used for presentations.

"You've got to be kidding me," Sage groaned as he yanked at the handle. It wouldn't budge.

We could not catch a break.

"The conference rooms door requires a keycard to open it. The doors are automatically locked after hours," she explained, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"You're bad luck," Sage stated as he narrowed his eyes at her.

She leveled his gaze. "I am not bad luck. Have you ever thought that maybe you're just terrible at this?"

Sage scoffed and threw his backpack on the ground, rolling a chair to the windows that granted them a look into the glowing city of Boston.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"We're staying the night," he said simply.

"And then what?" It didn't explain how they would leave.

He leaned back into his seat and spread his legs to get comfortable. "Does the cleaning staff come up here, usually?"

Solace figured where he was going with this. "Every morning at seven."

"They'll be our way out, then."

She peered at the door dejectedly and back at Sage. Begrudgingly, she brought another chair across from his and brought her knees up to her chest. She wasn't going to be getting much sleep tonight.

"Good thing I brought snacks," grinned Sage as he pulled out a bag of chips and began to munch on them obnoxiously.

This is going to be a long night.

***

Author's Note:

Hi everyone!