TREAD WITH CAUTION {~RPs and HCs

»T H E H E A R T O F T H E S C A R R E D •starter•

For months now, you and the detective had been friends, at times some people wondered if the detective had more affection for you then her own boyfriend, not that Sydney would say anything like that to your face. She was happy with Jamie, or so everyone thought.

Until today.

Sydney had been gone for several weeks, undercover at the request of her lieutenant. She hadn't had time to tell you she was gone, and you'd had to go down to the station to get some straight answers. Her partner, Kyle, assured you that he would convey word to her that you had asked about her, and that he would say when she returned.

Well, Kyle had kept his word, texting you when the case was over and Sydney returned to the station. So you messaged Sydney, asking if she wanted to hang out or have some tea soon.

There was no reply.

You knew she had read it, you saw that she had, but she never answered. That was odd in itself. But you just assumed that maybe she was tired, and wanted to go home to Jamie, a man you'd never met personally, but who Sydney had fawned over for weeks and weeks.

That had been a week ago, and you were beginning to grow concerned. No one had heard from Sydney since she'd returned, and no one in her group of friends knew this 'Jamie' well enough to have contact with him.

It was almost midnight, a cool Friday night, and you were doing your nightly routine to get ready for bed, until a knock at the door disturbed you. Wary, but curious, you opened it, and lo and behold...

It was Sydney.

You were surprised, but quickly ushered the young detective inside, offering to take her coat which she just shook her head to. You were rambling on about how much everyone had worried about her, her only reply a soft 'I'm fine.'

But she kept looking around and out the windows, like she was expecting someone or something. That kind of pissed you off, but you said nothing and just kept asking how she had been, how had the case gone, etcetera etcetera.

She finally snapped, and yelled that everything was fine and to stop worrying so damn much.

That was the final straw, and you had both started yelling, one arguing how she was fine and the other arguing that she wasn't.

Then you raised your hand to make a gesture, and that was when Sydney's eyes widened and she flinched, her hands twitching as if to cover her face.

You froze, unsure of what had happened to cause that reaction, then softly asked her to take off her jacket. She was silent, then did as you asked, revealing the pale skin of her shoulders and upper arms beneath a tank top.

The scars she had from her accident were there, fading thanks to treatment, but still there.

What was disturbing were the finger shaped bruises on her arms, and smaller burn marks around her wrists like she's been tied up. If those injuries had been from the case, those should have faded now... right?

You looked up at her in question, but she simply turned her gaze away, ashamed. "He... figured my arms were already ruined, so a few more wouldn't hurt." She breathed, and looking closer, there were newer cuts within the map of burns and scratches from falling debris years ago.

Your heart sped up, and you suddenly tugged the woman further into the house and inside, examining everywhere you could see. Scratches covered Sydney's shoulders, ones that looked deeper then something meant for sex and pleasure, and if you tilted her chin up, the bruises were around her throat as well.

"Did he hurt you? Because I know you, Syd. You wouldn't agree to this." You asked, still very soft.

The Brit was silent, as if debating telling the truth.

Then she finally nodded, "He hurt me." She breathed, "He-he wouldn't let me leave, he was mad because I had to leave so suddenly, and and and, I had to escape through the window."

She turned to look at you, her amber eyes defeated. "________, help me. Please."