Sweat trickled down my face as I fought the two bulldozers of a man that held me captive; I tried to get them off as I looked to my partner for help; my ally just stared at me; his brown eyes piercing my skin and left a trail of betrayal behind.

Didn't he say he would help me?

Didn't he say I came first, no matter the circumstance?

Aren't we on the same team?

A promise should be kept at all costs. He vowed to protect me. A promise, yet still it was broken. A word of honour that I allowed myself to indulge in as a fool, for only a faithful agreement makes an ignoramus glad, and only a promise is a comfort to a halfwit. Only I could make a fool of myself and trust a man again: trust, promises, trust...

"No, no, please don't!"

"Ava, Avagay." He shakes me aggressively from my slumber as he hovers over my sweat-filled face. The scene from my nightmare flashes across my mind, I push him away.

"Don't come near me, don't!" I scream hands stretched forward. Tears trickle down my face, but I know not what I am crying for. Those people, the fire, him; strange to me, a threat.

"Who are you?" I ask as he furs his brows at me. He guarded me all this time, but no one can be trusted; no one.

"What do you mean?"

"I had a dream, and you; you weren't the best of persons, and I know it's not just a dream: it is my missing memory, and I need answers." I say in one breath staring at him as though one stare could kill him. He runs his hand down his face and exhales sharply as I hurriedly wipe my tears. Those bloody things consistently proving me weak.

"What do you remember?" He asks, sitting on the stole near my hospital bed. I watch him, keenly.

"You; you watched those men drag me into a van and tie me up, but before that, we were on... like, a mission. I had in an earpiece, and you were like my guide, and you led me to this place; it was dark and whatever... The bottom line is you betrayed me. I know it was you because you have that same smirk, posture and everything. I can't explain it; it is just you." I say, allowing 'mother' index finger to shine.  Jabbing it in his direction especially at my extremely last statement. Of course, he stares at me like I am a fool, which I am.

"Don't stare at me like that. You know something, and I need answers." I bark. He wipes his face with his hands: eyes, nose, mouth, back up to that black silky hair of his.

"Hey!" I shout. After all, I'm desperate for those answers.

"I heard you the first time," he murmurs calmly; it scares me.

"I don't know what to tell you. Honestly. I need you to know I'm one of the good guys." He whispers, "Just trust me." Just trust me? I know I'm a fool, but who is willing to fall twice? Not me.

"How do I even trust you, after what I've remembered?"

"Just trust me Avagay, just this once." He hangs his head low; turning his back to me. Is that it? Should I just settle with 'trust me'? Can I even do that anymore: trust? What's that? A word used so frequently, but the definition isn't recognized. Trust?

The hospital door opens, and in comes Miss Tomlinson. Nice timing.

"Good day! How is my patient doing today?" She asks ritually.

"Just the way you left her yesterday." I answer, forging an excited tone with a smile " Just more trust issues." I quietly add.

Chris leaves and lets the doctor do her job. It irritates me. He knows something. Yet he keeps it to himself. I deserve to know. How can I trust him after he watched me fight and lose against those men when he could have helped? Trust... Who exactly?

"Everything great. Do you have anything to tell? Did you remember anything new?" Tomlinson asks, fracturing the silence. Yeah, a lot! Memories slapping me from left to right and trust issues in between. Do you think I will tell you? I need answers, and I'm pretty much sure you can not give them to me.

"No," I answered blankly.

"Okay. If nothing comes up, you will leave the hospital next week." Tomlinson smiles, pats my back, then leaves. Chris reenters after, the phone at his ears. He starts packing the knapsack, then throws me a suit of clothes.

"Put those on." He commands.

"Why?" He sends me a side-eye.

"Copy that, Cindy." He ends the call. "Just wear them." I look at him, uncertainty flooding my insides. Just trust you. Just wear them. Just do everything you say.

"Why the hell are you still looking at me? Wear them already!" He says, putting the sack on his back.

"Privacy?" I ask.

"You know what, forget it." He mumbles, then drags me out of the room.

"Where are we going?"

"We are leaving."

"Obviously."

"Keep your smart mouth to yourself."

"Why the stairs?"

"And your questions too." So he expects me to run down these stairs. What am I saying? He expects me to fly down these stairs because, to bloody hell, nobody can tell me I ain't flying. Follow him to God knows where after he betrayed me. This is insane.

"Come on." He drags me.

"I'm tired. I need to rest." I say through breaths.

"You can do that in the car. Just hurry." Unbelievable, now he's telling me to go faster. I think he forgot I am a patient. The hospital gown is quite, obvious. I look like a runaway psychopath. I let my hand loose.

"Avagay, not now." He warns.

"I'm tired," I respond.

"We are almost through the gates." He shouts, pointing behind him. "Ava, we need to go." His voice is grave, and his eyes widen.

"Who are those men behind you?" I ask. We look behind us, realizing we are circled by men in black. What's this a movie or something? I look back at Chris for instructions. The dream. Please don't betray me this time. He grabs my hand. Phew.

A fat man with a white beard emerges from the column between us and the men blocking our way to the back gates. I probably should have followed Chris's silly advice and hurry along. Now, Santa has come early, and my dream has proven I haven't been good.

"Agent Avagay and Agent Christopher you have nowhere else to go. Surrender or die."

"Die? Well, this day is going well!" I comment and receive a look from Chris. What? I know you agree with me.

"It would please me if you just keep, that smart mouth of yours shut." Or, maybe not.

"Grumpy." I huff. "How about you tell me how we will get out of here... Alive?"

"If you just shut up." He whispers, staring at Santa. I shut up. "Just follow my lead." He continues. He lets go of my hand, falling to his knees with his hands behind his head.

What now? How the hell is this not going to get us kidnapped or killed?

"What the hell are you doing?" I whispered, staring at the men who look just as confused as I am. I'm suddenly dragged to the floor by my hospital gown; it's torn. I look in Chris' direction stripping his skin from his bones with the fire in my eyes. I put my hands behind my head reluctantly, like a criminal who has been caught by the cops.

"Agent Avagay, comes with me." a female voice erupts. Female? I thought they were all males. I look up.

Brown hair extending past her broad shoulders. Sharp jaw lines, slim build and large brown eyes. She looked rather badass.

"You'll go with her. I'll be there soon. Do, exactly, what she says." Chris's voice bursts through my thoughts as he exaggerates the 'exactly'. Do 'exactly' what she blah blah blah, my inner child mocks, just as I realize what he uttered.

"Wait, what now?" I ask him, but I'm dragged up by sexy legs. She drags me like a piece of cloth out the back doors.

"Here, use this... if needed," she says, handing me a pistol that I take. I hold it tightly against my chest, aiming it in front at nothing in particular. My thin hands tremble as memory captures me. And I fight again. Chris watches me, those brown eyes so innocent yet deceiving.

"Ouch." I shoot.

"Good damn it, Cindy! Why did you give her a gun?" Chris asks, grabbing it from my hand. A red substance dropped from his shirt to the floor. Blood.

"She's an agent, and we are in danger." Cindy, as Chris called her, defends herself.

"She's in a hospital gown," Chris responds, irritated.

"And?" Cindy responds.

"And that says a lot. She just came out of a comma." Chris sighs and drags me by the arm. He leads me into the back seat of a car and buckles my seatbelt. His face comes close to mine. So close I could lick it. I bet he would be a delicious meal. Yuck! Are you a psychopath? Get yourself together. Well, I am running away from a hospital. Just shut up.

I look through the tinted glass at the busy streets. The sun sets a bright orange and faintish pink. Beautiful. Nothing like that night. The path.

"Avagay Ava," the commander's voice rang through my earpiece. I took a breath. "Ava, can you hear me?" he shouted again.

"Chris?" I finally answered.

"What do you see?"

"A path and nothing else."

"Impossible."

"I am out here in the night without any source of light. What exactly do you expect me to see, Sir?"

"Come back." he hissed through my ears. I did just that. The night air swept me off my feet as I sprinted back to the van just a couple of miles away. My shoulder-length brown hair came loose from its pong tail, blocking my vision of the road.

The night was silent. No owls, crickets, nothing. I only heard my heavy breath and thumping heartbeat. My shoes kicked up dust as I headed down a trail I trod just minutes ago. My hair got loose. I stopped and adjusted my hair for the third time that night. I wiped the sweat from my round face and around my brown eyes. I could see much better. It was then I heard those footsteps.

Heavy, but not too loud. What exactly was the mission about again? Wait, it's classified. I looked behind me for the footsteps' source, of course, I could see nothing. It's dark. How did I even get down here?

"Chris, Chris," I whispered in my comms as I started my sprint yet again. The footsteps followed. Heavier and louder. Whoever it was, whatever it was, it was definitely after me.

"Chris, commander." There was still no answer. Crap. I slid my hand down my waist, checking for my weapon, but none. What the hell? When do I ever not walk with my knife sack?

"Chris, damnit, you better have a good excuse for not answering me now." What if he was attacked? What if he is dead? I ran faster. The footsteps faded. My hair got loose damn hair.

At the van, a disaster awaited me, two men laying on the floor. One held a 9mm pistol and the other a flashlight. Bob and Tommy. I didn't know them, but they worked for the agency. I check their pulse; dead. Chris? I grabbed the gun from Bob's hand and went inside the van in search of Chris. Nothing. Shit!

I hurriedly went outside. I heard it again, footsteps. I gripped the gun stronger. I stepped down off the last stair of the van, the gun showing itself first. The footsteps neared.

"S. S. Stop there, or else I'll shoot." I blurted. Gosh, you're so smart! As if they will listen to you when they want you dead. God damnit, I am no good with these things.

"Shoot, trembling like that?" he said, then chuckled. I breathed, only Chris.

"I thought they took you," I said as he came under the light.

"I thought you were dead," he responded, then chuckled. Yeah funny.

"What a nice way to ruin the moment. But seriously, where were you?"

"I was out taking a piss. What happened here?"

"I don't know. I came back and saw Bob and Tommy here like this. I think someone is after us. On my way back, I heard footsteps, like someone was following me. We need to go." I threw the gun at him and headed into the van for gasoline. We can't leave those dead bodies lying around, plus they're of no use to the agency anymore.

"Pass me your lighter," I said to Chris as I disembarked. He threw it, I caught it. I sprinkled the bodies and then set them alight. I stared into the fire like I saw something abnormal. It was nothing. I couldn't stop thinking about them, him. I wondered if this was how he died. I forced myself to stop thinking like that.

I turned my attention to Chris, who looked at me with those darn eyes. I could stare at them for weeks, months, or years and not be bored. His skin shined as the light emitted by the fire bounced on it. He flexed his angular jaw, then looked at me with pity. Confusion flooded my system. Then I heard them again. Those darn footsteps. But I wasn't walking, neither was Chris. Heavy, they were heavy like the ones that followed me.

A sick feeling swept over me like a cold mist spreading through my limbs. Chris stepped back, but the footsteps came closer. He went back, closer. What the hell was going on? I stared at him for an explanation, but none came.

I was grabbed from behind. Strong arms bound my arms. I screamed. Chris watched. Apologetic, but he watched.

The promise, what happened to it? You promised to help me when in trouble. What happened to your commitment that stated me first in everything? That promise.

Forget that darn promise. I fought, I kicked, but the men were just too strong. Excuses; that was all I had. The oath... The men's strength. I continued to fight but to no avail. I lost. I already lost because I trusted him. I'm a fool, and I got what I deserved: betrayal.