Harry Styles Imagines

57. FBI [Personal]

Being an FBI agent was all I ever dreamed about. I loved placing the bad guys behind bars, but there was a downside to it. Those bad guys weren't just thieves. The lot got involved in much worse things. Abusers, murders, psychos etc. It was my daily routine. They'd use anything against me to get their revenge. The last thing I wanted was to get my loved ones involved. The best solutions to it seemed to simply not tell Harry, my very own husband. Yet now I was wrapped in a cobweb of lies and I couldn't find my way out anymore.

The silence between us increases the tension. We keep gazing at each other without saying something. The lies are taking their toll on our relationship. We both realize what is coming if we keep going in circles, but we never voice our fears. I am too afraid to lose my rock - my everything- and I knew Harry is, too. We love each other immensely, but sometimes that isn't enough. I hope we'd find our way back to each other, eventually.

Tired of the silence that seems to follow us everywhere, I break eye contact with Harry. With a last glance thrown his way, I see his eyes glassing over. A pain shoots through my heart as realization hits me. We are both going to cry silently tonight.

• • •

The next morning, Harry isn't beside me in bed, as expected. What I would give to wrap my arms and legs around his tall body and get lost in the love we once shared.

Walking on tiptoes I get ready for the day. I pray in myself I don't wake Harry. I don't think I'd be prepared for another silent confrontation. As a repetition of yesterday night I walk down the hall with my black boots in my hand.

When I pass the couch a sigh of relief blows passed my lips. Harry's eyes are closed tightly. He continues to sleep in a very uncomfortable sleeping position. I smile sadly. Tossing aside the urge to lie down with my husband, I let my lips brush against the skin of his forehead and walk out of the door.

• • •

"Anything new?" I ask my team while I sip my coffee. The lingering numbness in my heart reminds me of my problems at home, but I try to shake them off. Yet the thought of coming home tonight and finding out Harry isn't there, makes my head swirl.

"We've found some traces around the shipyard," Kensi, my colleague, answers the question, "We are going to take a look once everyone gets here."

"You think they're there?"

"Pretty sure. Boss is all serious about it. Told the team to grab all the guns and armors from the back."

Adrenaline starts to pump through my veins at Kensi's words. I smile knowingly at the familiar feeling. By the time everybody has gathered in the office, I was up to date with the case again and what we may expect once we get to the shipyard.

"Let's go get the bad guys!"

• • •

'Follow me,' signs Kensi toward me and J.J. With guns in our hands and all armed up, we make our way down the big amount of containers scattered around the shipyard. My eyes scan the area and my ears try to pick up the littlest sound that seem to be out of place. I keep alert as I take step after step. My mind screams at me that there is something wrong. It shouldn't be so quiet. When is it every quiet in a shipyard?

The three of us decide to split up. Going with my gut feeling - that is clearly telling me I am close to something - I load my gun. The clicking sound of it kills the silence. It is right in that moment that my ears pick up the sound of shuffling sounds on the concrete ground. I calm my breath down till the beats of my heart slow down. With alert eyes and ears I round the corner, coming face to face with a smug grin. The man's face is covered in dirt and his eyes seem to taunt me, almost laughing at me. My heartbeat picks up. I try to analyze his body style, figuring out his next move. But then, he starts running.

I take off as quickly as the suspect does. My feet barely touch the ground and I force my legs to go faster. My hand finds its way to my walkie talkie secured on my belt. "We have a runner! I repeat, we have a runner!"

The suspect tries to lose me by taking sharp left and right turns, but to no avail. I get closer and closer to him. I can almost tackle him, just a couple more meters. The suspect's eyes are heavily trained on the ship at the end of the docks. 'I need to take this guy down before he can reach the ship.'

We round another corner and we continue our chasing game when there's suddenly not one, but two men in front of me. The second man turns around. I can see he's smirking my way. With confusiom clouding my mind, I slow down. In a swift motion the second suspect pulls out a - what looks like an AR 15 - of his jacket, and before I can even think what's happening I'm down.

My ears ring from the deafening sound of the shots. A sharp pain shoots from my left leg through the rest of my body. I can feel parts of my arms burn from scraping my skin against the concrete. I curse in my pain. Blood seeps out of the wounds. Within' seconds I am going to lose liters of blood. I find myself almost paralyzed. My sight blurs as I can just make out the figures of the two suspects running toward the ship. Everything seems to slow down. My breaths are ragged as it gets harder to get oxygen in my body. A haze falls over me.

"Fuck!" a familiar voice sounds next to me. "Dixie? Are you okay?!"

I want to nod my head, I really try to, but my brain doesn't let me. The pain increases while I lay helplessly on the ground. My head starts to throb. I'm losing way too much blood, I think to myself. This can't be healthy.

"AGENT DOWN! I need an ambulance, now!"

• • •

The beeps of the heart monitor make me grunt in discomfort. The throbbing of my head worsens with every beep that fills the room. Can't they make silent heart monitors? That would be a lot more practical.

I raise my hand to wipe the hair that's tickling my nose away, when suddenly there's shuffling noises next to me. I jerk my head to the sight. A sharp pang shoots through my head from the sudden movement. I close my eyes to get rid of the pain.

Opening my eyes I gasp when I see who's sitting next to me. With his elbows on his knees and his head placed in his hands like it weighs a ton. I notice Harry's wearing the same red shirt as yesterday. I desperately want to break the silence. I'm done with silence.

"Hi. . ." My voice is hoarse and dry. I keep my blue eyes fixed on my husband.

Harry doesn't move for a minute or two, before he speaks up, "They called me. . ."

After he runs his hand through his hair, Harry raises his head. He looks broken. Eagerly he grabs my hand in his his, intertwining our fingers. He smiles sadly at our hands.

"I thought you died."

His voice broke. I can see a single tear slide down his cheek. Harry wipes the back of his hand roughly against his skin. I squeeze his hand, wishing I can take him in my arms to comfort him.

"I almost lost you. . . I can't believe you didn't tell me. I though you knew you can tell me everything." Harry's body shakes out of fear. "I love you so, so much, Dixie." Harry bows his head down to place a soft kiss on my trembling hand. The action makes my heart leap. "Don't you ever scare me like that again." A beautiful smile appears on Harry's features as a sob rakes through his body.

"I love you."

Harry presses a kiss against my lips. My body hums in anticipation, loving the feeling of his warm lips against mine. I smile into the kiss. Slowly, Harry pulls away. I wipe the last few tears from his cheeks.

Glancing toward the end of the bed, I groan when I see my leg pulled up with a huge bandage wrapped around it. No more field work for me for a couple of weeks.

"You're not leaving the house for the next four weeks, understand?" Harry almost growls protectively.

I can't help but to giggle like a school girl. Being taken care of Harry Styles doesn't sound that bad.