It's been a few days - maybe even a week - since we found Heather in that God awful place. She's safe now, back at her hometown in one of the hospitals. I called my aunt to let her know what happened and where we found her, and I cried with her some more, but she's absolutely relieved that her baby is back home. I can't even begin to tell you how happy I was to see Heather.

I sit with her in the hospital; Diana has given me a week to be there for her before I have to take off again. Her hand clutches mine tightly. Rain drums softly against the window.

"What would I do without you here?" She asks me, her thumb gently stroking the top of my hand. "I'm so glad you came and saved me, sissy. . ." She says, and it takes me back to when she was barely learning to talk. She had always called me sissy. "I. . .I h-honestly thought that everyone forgot about me. . . ." She chokes on her tears.

I force back my tears and instead smile at her, "Well, I didn't forget about you, honey, and neither did your mom. We spent years looking for you, and when she gave up hope, I never did. I kept my faith and I kept searching. I was heartbroken when I found you there, but. . . .I was happy to know that you were alive." I sit at the edge of her bed and pull her into a tight hug, kissing her softly on the forehead. "And what he did to you was an atrocity, and possibly the worst thing that a human being—"

She cuts me off before I can finish my sentence, "He's not a human being, he's a fucking monster." Her cries are muffled by my shoulder as I gently stroke the back of her head in a comforting manner.

"Shh, baby." My words are soft, almost like a mother consoling her frightened child. I've known this baby since I was fifteen. "I'm here." I leave a soft kiss on the top of her head and she pulls herself away after a few minutes. I use my thumb to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

She inhales deeply, "Is my mom gonna come see me?" Her voice is soft, and she looks up at me with big eyes. There's an innocence behind them still, and she looks like someone kicked a puppy who was already broken deep down.

I give her a reassuring smile before answering her question, "Yes. She said she'll be here in about fifteen minutes. I'm gonna stay with you until then, okay?"

She returns the smile and, for once, it doesn't look like she's forcing it. "I'd like that." She says, her hand grabbing mine again.

"It's no problem for me, sweetie." I stroke the knuckles gently with my thumb, humming to her softly.

"C. . .Could you sing to me?" She asks and looks at me with the big, bright eyes of a child.

My smile softens, "Sure." I answer softly. It's been awhile since I sang to her, but I just want to make the poor thing happy. "Which song would you like for me to sing?"

Placing a finger on her chin, she stops and ponders for a moment, before finally speaking up, "Remember that song you used to sing to me when I'd have trouble falling asleep at night?" With the way she looks at me, it's almost as if I'm staring back at that same child all snuggled into her blanket with her stuffed animals and her flashlight. She used to be afraid of the dark, and always slept with a flashlight.

"Which one, sweetie?" My mind thinks back to her childhood—which were during my teenage years—but it was so long ago that I don't really remember all that I used to sing to her.

"The one from Thumbelina." She says.

"Hm, I think I remember which one you're talking about." She smiles at me when I say those words, "It's been a little while since I sang for anyone, so you'll have to give me a moment to get warmed up."

I make a few noises from the back of my throat, trying to get it clear and free of mucus that tends to build up when one cries too much. When I feel that everything is in order, my voice is soft as it drifts through the room.

"I know there's someone
Somewhere, someone
Who's sure to find me soon."

I pause for a brief moment to catch my breath.

"After the rain goes,
There are rainbows.
I'll find my rainbow soon. . ."

She mutters the words in perfect sync with me while I keep singing, and for once since we freed her from her prison, she seems like her thoughts aren't bothering her. At least, for a short while.

"Soon, it won't be just pretend.
Soon, a happy ending.
Love, can you hear me?
If you're near me
Sing your song;
Sure and strong and
Soon. . . ."

Her eyes drift closed and a smile plays across her lips. She seems content and happy. I sigh and leave another soft kiss on her forehead, my hand not wanting to let go of hers.

"You have a lovely singing voice." 47's voice came in nearly a whisper over my shoulder. Has he been in here the whole time?

"Thanks." I respond quietly, not wanting to disturb Heather's rest. "Thank you, by the way, for letting me be here for her." My voice is barely above a whisper; I'll be surprised if he can even hear me. "I know you didn't see that whole 'heartless' half of me, but that was probably one of the hardest missions I've ever had to do."

He puts one of his hands on my shoulder and gives it a comforting squeeze, "I can tell that you were traumatized." He says, trying to soothe the ache in my heart. It hurts so much.

"Thank you for understanding." I give him a soft smile and kiss the knuckles of Heather's hand. I then place her arm in a careful manner, as to not wake her, over her stomach. When I stand up, I dust myself off. "We should go and let her get her rest." I tell him with a sigh.

"Are you certain?" He asks me, and I'll be honest, it throws me off guard to hear his voice fill with worry. "You don't wish to stay with her longer?"

Brushing it off, I nod my head. "Yeah. Her mom is on her way and should be here shortly. She'll be fine, I'm sure of it. Let's go." Without really thinking, I take him by the hand and lead him out of the room, shutting the door behind me as I do so.

It isn't until we get out into the hallway that I realize I grabbed his hand in the way someone would grab their lover's. With a faint blush, I quickly retract my hand. My body slumps itself weakly against the wall, but 47 catches me and keeps me held upright with an arm before I can hit the ground. I feel sick and every orifice of my body feels painstakingly numb. 

"I'm fine," I manage to mumble out in between large intakes of breath. My nerves are shot and bile rises up in the base of my throat, threatening to spill out at any given moment. Over the week, I listened to everything she told me had happened to her. It makes me sick to my stomach every time I think about it, and the thought of her poor, defenseless body lying there while Michael took advantage of her is fresh in my mind. "It's just hard to accept that something so horrible and traumatizing happened to such a sweet, caring, loveable little girl. . ." Tears threaten to fall again, but I fight them back.

Concern flashes in 47's eyes, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he just gives me time to weep silently for Heather. I wish I had been there to protect her.

Why couldn't it have been me that Michael got ahold of instead?