I'm tossing and turning, the sheets a wrinkled mess around my limbs and my pillow feeling like a brick stone underneath my head. My eyes are burning, my throat is dry, and my head is throbbing, yet sleep just doesn't seem to be able to overtake me.

Every time I close my eyes, I see her. I see how she looked at me, positioned on that hard, wooden floor, her eyes oozing fear while she clutched her belly in her arms.

I see how she desperately cried that her baby couldn't come out. How she fought it until nature overtook the matter and she didn't have any other option but to push.

And although I know that she is now safe, I also see that old fucking bastard. Without ever meeting him and without Josephine talking to me about him, I can't seem to get him out of my head.

In my imagination, he looks old, has grey hair, and maybe even has those tiny glasses that just fit onto his nose. He is fat, with hairy arms and a dirty buttoned shirt that's just one size too small. He is sweaty, I have no fucking clue why, but he is.

And the worst part is; every time I close my eyes, my imagination takes me on a nightmare cruise and shows me what that asshole did to her.

Those images are not based on anything more than my guesses since Josephine hasn't told me anything about her life in that dump, but it still feels so fucking real that every time my eyes open just as fast so I don't have to see it anymore.

I'm in bed for God knows how long now, and I've come to the terrifying conclusion that this case will not let me go, no matter what will happen next. It has marked me. Josephine and her daughter have marked me, along with their story.

It's not a case anymore anyway. It has a face now. It's not some meaningless, faceless file that I've closed now that the person in question it's safe. This case has a name. A story. And whether I want it or not, I'm part of that story. Their story.

After Josephine ate the two slices of bread, Mercy walked into the room with new clothes. They went to the bathroom, so Josephine could shower while Mercy helped her, and Daisy stayed with me.

Being alone with Daisy felt familiar and comfortable, and it gave me a bit of time to reflect on why I was feeling the immense need to protect them while I hardly knew them.

The conclusion came rather fast. I realized that although I don't know Josephine for longer than a few hours, I do know Daisy. I've known her from the moment she took her first breath and was the first one that held her, even though it was just a few seconds before I gave her to her mother.

Hell, I think I'm the one that held her most in her short life, even including Josephine.

And Josephine trusts me with her completely. She didn't hesitate when Mercy asked her if she wanted to take a shower to warm up. She just turned to me with a questioning look if I was okay to hold her for a bit longer.

When I said I was, she let Mercy, whom she seems to feel comfortable around as well, help her into a wheelchair. She then left me with the little thing she loves most in the world and quite honestly, the only one she has.

While Josephine and Mercy were gone and I gave my thoughts some much-needed rest, I suddenly felt how tired I was. Physically and emotionally, I felt drained, and the warmth of the little bundle that lay across my chest wasn't helping in staying awake.

I woke up when the two of them returned, and like the worried sister she is, Mercy ordered me to go home and get some sleep.

I was hesitant. For some reason, it felt wrong to leave Josephine and Daisy alone, especially since I knew that Mercy's shift was also coming to an end shortly.

It was a feeling that Josephine felt as well. I sensed how she got nervous when Mercy mentioned that I had to go home. The fear in her eyes was back, not as pronounced, but it was there.

Of course, she didn't say anything about it. She hid it, or at least, she tried and encouraged me to indeed go home and get some rest.

Since I knew that I couldn't stay in that hospital forever, I agreed. And that's when I had to say goodbye.

Mercy left us alone for a bit, sensing how the room suddenly soaked in awkwardness.

It was silent for a few minutes. Daisy, who was now laying in a cot next to Josephine's bed, was the only one who made noise. Her little whimpers, not from discomfort but just because she was awake, filled the awkward silence that was present in the room.

I didn't know how to say goodbye; didn't know if I could hug her or just give her a wave. Honestly, everything seemed loaded and as if I would overstep a boundary.

Eventually, I settled on laying my hand on her arm and squeezing it. She gave me a small smile so I guess it was the right thing to do. I then moved to Daisy and held her tiny hand in mine for a moment. Her small hand wrapped around my thumb, her blazing blue eyes looking up at me.

I had to swallow away the tears and force myself to not show any kind of emotion. When I felt I wasn't able to hold it all back, I turned and left, the soft "bye" from Josephine the last thing I heard before I closed the door.

Perhaps that's the main reason why my body and mind are a restless mess at this very moment. I hate how we said goodbye. I loathe the idea of not seeing her and Daisy again. I despise the idea of thinking about them as a case closed.

I turn around for the tenth time in less than two minutes, trying to find a comfortable position that maybe feels good enough to catch some sleep even though I know that it's useless.

It's frustrating as well; I know that I'm expected to run a full shift tonight. If I won't sleep, it's gonna be a bitch.

I sigh and open my eyes, rubbing my hands over my face two times in frustration. The room is dimly lit; I have blinds since I tend to sleep a lot during the day because of my different working schedule, but the daylight is still peeking through underneath. It's never bothered me as much as it does now though.

The buzzing of my phone on the bedside table startles me from my thoughts and forces me to sit up. I haven't looked at my phone since I rested my head on my pillow and usually, I shut down all the notifications except the one for my alarm. I'm not sure why I interrupted that routine.

When I grab my phone, I immediately see that Mercy is calling me. Before I answer, I check the time since it's not a thing for her to call me while she knows I've had a nightshift, especially since she's had one too. It's a little after one in the afternoon, and she should definitely be sleeping just like me.

"Hi, Merc," I answer while I lay back again. I think she wants to talk about what happened during the night, especially about how she saw that I'm too involved for it to be appropriate.

"Hero," she says, and I immediately note that she sounds extremely rushed, which makes me sit up once again. "I'm sorry for calling. I know you're probably sleeping."

"That's okay. What's going on?" I cut to it, feeling my adrenaline rise. Why does she sound so out of breath?

"It's Josephine," she rushes out before she muffles her phone. In the distance, I can hear her talking to someone, and before I have time to register it, I'm already out of bed and putting on some clothes. "Sorry, I don't think I'm supposed to call you. I just don't know what to do," she says after a few moments.

"What's wrong, Merc? What about Josephine?" I press. My patience begins to wind down seriously, especially because I know Mercy wouldn't call me unless it's serious.

"Well, after I'd said goodbye to Josephine and told her that I'd see her tonight since I'm working a nightshift again, I left. I changed, but then realized I forgot my bleeper, so I had to go back to the unit."

I roll my eyes as I put my toothpaste-covered toothbrush into my mouth. Mercy had never been one to cut to the chase. She always needs a hundred words to express a sentence that can easily be done in just ten. As I furiously brush my teeth, I let her tell me her story because I feel she needs it.

"And when I came back, I heard screaming and I saw Patty, my supervisor, come out of Josephine's room with a crying Daisy in her arms. The screams weren't from her though, it was Josephine," she continues, and with every word she talks, my anger rises even though I don't know what happened exactly.

I spit out the remains of toothpaste to demand more information, but Mercy thankfully continues without waiting for any response from me.

"Patty walked away from me, and since Josephine's cries became harder, I decided to go to her. When I came in, two of my colleagues were holding her arms while a third one was standing next to her bed with an injection in her hand." I can hear that she is getting emotional; her voice cracks and she takes a deep breath, leaving room for me to respond.

"What the fuck?" It's all I can say. I run out of the bathroom to the hall, and step into my Nikes, grabbing my jacket from one of the hooks in the process as well. "Merc, what happened next?"

Mercy takes a deep breath and then resumes her story. "I asked what was going on, and the moment Josephine heard me, she stopped fighting. Her eyes were wide and full of fear and she kept saying Daisy's name. Because she stopped fighting, my colleague got the chance to give her the injection, and moments later she slumped against the bed. It was horrible, Hero. I couldn't do anything."

"I ran out of the room and in the direction where Patty went, and I found her a few doors down. She was giving Daisy a bottle of milk. When I asked her what happened, she said that she'd walked into the room when she heard Daisy cry for a good few minutes. Josephine was struggling with feeding her, and according to Patty, they both looked frustrated. When she tried to come closer to offer help, Josephine freaked out."

I rush out of my apartment, shutting the door behind me with a loud thud before sprinting down the stairs and heading to my storage where my motorbike is. I've been riding since I was old enough to do so, and in a city like London it's ideal and way faster than a car. I grab my helmet and listen to Mercy, who is still talking to me.

"She tried to fight Patty with her legs since she was holding Daisy in her arms. I think that Patty didn't keep her distance and that Josephine panicked because of that or something. I don't really know, but Patty eventually called for backup because she feared that Daisy was in danger. I don't know Hero, it's so fucked up and I don't know what to do. Josephine is so traumatized it scares me." Mercy is crying now, I'm sure because she rushes out the last few words while fighting a sob.

I thought I was mad at that Patty chick before, but right now my blood is boiling. It's so bad, that I have to take a few deep breaths because I fear I'll put myself in danger if I hop on my bike in this state. At the same time, I'm trying to reassure Mercy. "Merc, where are you?"

"I'm outside of the hospital. I can't go back up; I've got a feeling that Patty didn't appreciate me asking questions. I'm just an intern, after all," she answers, thankfully sounding a bit calmer than before.

"Okay, I'm coming. Give me twenty," I tell her while starting my bike. "Just stay there, Merc."

"Okay," Mercy hesitantly says. She senses my anger, because right after she adds, "Hero, be careful."

"I will," I tell her before ending the call and dropping my phone in the pocket of my jacket. I put on my helmet next, not bothering on changing into my riding gear or boots. I just don't have the time for that shit right now.

Thankfully, the streets of London are not busy which is to be expected since it's Sunday. I don't have any setbacks during the ride and within twenty minutes, I arrive at the hospital. Sure, I've broken every speed limit which is something I rarely do since I've seen some horrible accidents during work, but today I didn't give a shit.

All I could think about was getting to that maternity unit as fast as possible.

When I turn around the corner to park my bike, I see Mercy waiting for me. Her hands are in her pockets, her face hidden in her scarf, and the tip of her nose is pink. It's not a surprise; it's December and fucking freezing. Funnily enough, I hardly feel it. It must be the adrenaline.

I jump off my bike and ditch it against the wall near me, putting it on lock and yanking my helmet off right after while I beckon Mercy to follow me. I'm not running, but my strides are long and determined, which causes Mercy to run behind me to keep up with me.

"Hero, wait," she says behind me, but I don't listen. I'm too rushed, and all I want to do is get upstairs as fast as possible to make sure Josephine and Daisy are okay.

"Hero, seriously," she says again, this time grabbing my shoulder and by that forcing me to lower my speed. "What are you going to do?"

I look at her with an 'are you serious expression'. "What am I gonna do? Seriously, Merc? What the hell do you think? I'm going to that bitch of a supervisor and ask her what the bloody hell she's thinking."

Mercy now walks next to me, her breathing heavy. When we reach the elevator, I punch my fist against the button, and luckily for us, the doors immediately open. Once we're inside, Mercy has enough breath to talk again.

"But what are you going to say? You have to realize that Josephine and Daisy aren't related to you and therefore, you don't have any say or rights whatsoever. And besides that, I can get into serious trouble for telling you what happened. I have his thing called professional confidentiality, Hero. I fucking signed a paper regarding that. The fact that I called you is illegal," she rushes out, making sure I've heard everything before the doors open and I run away again.

The doors open and I take one step so I'm in between the doors and thereby stopping them from closing. "Listen Merc, I don't give a flying fuck that I don't have a say. That girl in there has been through hell, and the only one she trusts right now is me. I damn well have a say in it and I don't fucking care about anyone who says otherwise."

Mercy's eyes widen at my rant, and again I know what she is thinking. But before I have time to stop her from saying it out loud, she already starts. "Hero, you're in way too deep. You can't let this get to you like this. It isn't healthy."

I roll my eyes and don't let her words get to me. Also, I ignore the nagging feeling in my gut that tells me she is right. Instead, I push every responsibility about being here off of me which is immature, but at this point the only thing I can think of. "If that's so, then why the hell did you call me, Mercy?!"

"I... I just..," she stutters, her eyes searching for an explanation that doesn't come.

"You called me because you know I'm the only one she trusts. And while we're here bickering, she is out there needing my help. So can we just get the fuck going, please? I promise I won't get you into trouble."

"Hero, you can't just act like-"

"Fuck this. I'm going," I cut her off, losing my patience. At the same time, I slam my hand against the elevator doors which makes Mercy jump.

I ignore the guilt that rushes through me because I snapped at her, and make my way towards the maternity unit with her on my heels. She doesn't stop me anymore though; she knows she can't.

I pass the information desk of the unit and then take a left turn. When I'm standing in front of the door that leads to Josephine, I don't bother knocking. I just open it and walk into her room.

The light in the room is the same as when I left; only one light is on. It takes a moment for me to adjust my eyes, and when I have complete focus, I'm shocked by what I see.

Josephine is laying on her back, her eyes closed as if she is sleeping. She looks relaxed, and I have no doubt it's because they gave her something to calm her down. Her wrists are wrapped in soft, white belts - much like ones that hold a robe together - and they are tied to the bed.

"What the fuck?" I question under my breath. She is fucking tied to her bed as if she's a criminal, and it makes me furious. She must be scared to death, I know she is. On top of that, Daisy is nowhere to be seen.

"They must've tied her for her own safety," Mercy says from behind me, her voice soft and hesitant.

"The fuck they have," I retort, trying my best not to snap at her since this is not her fault. Without saying anything else, I leave the room and search for Patty, who I know must be here still. Mercy doesn't follow me this time, and I hope she'll stay with Josephine in case she wakes up.

Sure enough, I spot Patty in the room where Dwight and I had our talk early this morning, and without knocking, I barge in, making my intentions clear from the get-go.

"Where is she?" I demand, not missing how her eyes widen while she rolls her chair back a bit.

"Sir, this is highly inapp-"

"Don't you fucking dare call me inappropriate while you're the one who bound a traumatized girl to a fucking bed," I cut her off, my whole demeanor oozing rage. "Where is she?"

She straightens her shoulders and recovers from the first shock before standing from her chair. "If by 'she', you mean the baby, I can tell you she's safe."

"She fucking better be," I growl. "Where is she?"

"She's at the neonatology unit so we can monitor her. Since her weight was low and feeding was difficult, we decided to transfer her," she says without blinking as if lying is her second nature.

"You? You decided that? What about her mother? Why didn't she get to decide? Why is she bound to a bed and drugged?" I try to keep my voice down, I really do, but the rage is getting worse by the minute. The audacity of this woman goes above and beyond.

"Because she was forming a danger to herself, her baby, and us. She is here because she needs to be taken care of, just like her baby, and she won't let us. Unfortunately, she didn't leave us any choice." I hear regret in her tone that first wasn't there, and for just a second, I see that her expression chancing. "We just want to help her, but she is fighting everyone and by that, she almost harmed her baby."

I take a deep breath and move my hand through my hair frantically, willing myself to calm down. "But taking her away won't make things better. That little girl is the only one she has."

"And we know that. But she has to stop fighting us, else there is a chance that she'll lose her baby because child services find her unsuitable to raise her child," she explains, her expression softening even more. She then takes a deep breath before she continues, "I wanted to help her with feeding. She tried to breastfeed her, but her baby didn't want to latch onto her nipple correctly which is something common and completely normal. I wanted to help and tried to do so with care and distance. But she wouldn't let me and panicked instantly. By doing that, the baby fell out of her arms. I was just in time to catch her. That's why I took her away. Of course, she panicked even more when her baby was gone, and that's why we had to give her a small amount of sedative. It's probably worn out of her blood by now, but because she was so tired, she's still sleeping."