Wrapped in silence, you stood at the security checkpoint of the local police department and let hands of strangers pat you up and down.

You didn't carry any weapons even though the urge to protect yourself was now greater than ever.

With half lidded eyes, you turned your head to look over at Phillip.

He gifted you an encouraging smile as your eyes locked. He was calm, obviously, since he was just here to be a witness and testify for what you were about to tell. This wasn't his business.

And yet.

Not only had he insisted that you would spent the night at his he had also taken care and had called the family lawyer O'Neill to make sure you wouldn't get screwed over.

And now he was here, with you at the police station. For moral support.

If it weren't for him you probably would even have managed to roll out of bed that morning. It gave you a sense of comfort and security to know that you could rely on him.

Perhaps it wouldn't have been such a bad idea to ask him out.

"Thank you.", you nodded your head politely in thanks as the cop let you pass through the gates. "Let's get this over with."

Without hesitating a single time, you walked down the long hallways, your gaze fixed ahead and made your way down to the interrogation rooms.

Your own Reflexion greeted you in mirrored windows. You stopped in front of a door. But you struggled to reach out and open it.

"Fuck.", you breathed, your grip on the handle of your leather bag tightened.

Agreeing, Phillip hummed.

"You alright?", he asked before you could run off.

"I'm fine."

His grip on your arm tightened.

"I'm serious.", he looked you dead in the eye. "I've seen loads of hells break loose, but this... shit this is something' else."

For a moment you looked at him with empty eyes. It felt like you watched him through the screen of a TV. A tired smile managed to cross your face for a brief second.

"I've had it all and last it all within days, Phillip.", your hand rose to gently caress his scratchy cheek. "I'm still here. I'll be fine."

He nodded.

"Alright.", he gently leaned forward, as if there was this urge in him to breathe a kiss to your forehead, but restrained himself and smiled instead. "I'll be here whenever you need me."

"Thanks.", you pushed the handle of the door down.

"Ah!", O'Neill's face greeted you from inside the room. "Good, very good. You're punctual."

"Why wouldn't I be?", you managed to put on a slightly more friendly expression and shook his hand.

"Well, nights like the one you had are not the typical one.", he greeted Phillip with a handshake as well. "And you are?"

"My moral support.", you jumped in before anyone could say anything. "He was there. Yesterday I mean. Commander Phillip Graves, Shadow Company, Mister O'Neill, family lawyer."

You introduced them with a gesture.

With a nod of his head, Phillip shook his hand firmly before taking a seat to your right.

"Pleased.", he said in a dry manner. "As pleased as one can be in this situation."

"And the situation is?", another voice suddenly entered the room.

All eyes moved to the door.

"Sergeant Berns.", you rose from your chair to shake the man's hand.

"Good day.", he returned the gesture. "How are we feeling?"

"As well as one can be right now."

"Of course.", Berns took a seat opposite of the three of you and placed a whole stack of papers in front of him on the table.

Surprised, O'Neill's eyebrows rose.

"What are those documents?", he asked and pointed at them.

"Police files.", Burns answered.

You frowned.

"About me?", you asked, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

"Yes."

Visibly confused, O'Neill turned to you.

"You did not inform me that you have a criminal record.", he said in a reproachful tone.

You shook your head.

"I don't.", your gaze returned to Berns. "May I have a look?"

"Unfortunately, you're not allowed to unless your lawyer made a formal request to see the documents. But as of now I can tell you that your aunt and her son have testified against you."

Your heart dropped to your stomach.

"What?!", terrified, you looked at O'Neill.

In a soothing manner he raised his hands.

"Alright, we should all settle for a moment.", he glared at the cop. "You do realise that the gate keeping of information in such serious accusations is a crime, officer?"

"We didn't press charges yet.", he tried to play it cool.

"You cannot press charges unless my client knows what the accusations are.", O'Neill did a gesture. "I don't have to tell you that it's your job to share them. Right now."

For a moment, Berns seemed to refuse. But finally the cop inside his head won and he opened the file.

"Your aunt, May Claire Phillis, has testified that your mental state declined ever since your fathers disease.", he read. "She said you were unstable and threatened her. She and her son left early because they both feared for their lives. Your aunt returned that night because she was worried about your butler Michael. As she arrived she found him dead. Her son, Felix Phillis, followed, worried about his mothers wellbeing. That's why he was found by soldiers of the shadow company roaming the yard."

A laugh escaped you. Then cold anger struck.

"That fucking bitch...", you gasped and clenched your hands into fists. "She twisted everything to her favour!"

O'Neill sighed.

"By god!", he sighed and buried his face in his hands.

You were about to jump from your seat in a fit of range as Phillip cut in.

"I can assure you that these accusations are made up.", he insisted and pulled out a USB stick to smash it on the table. "And I have written proof."

Surprised, O'Neill's head snapped around.

"Why did no one think it was a good idea to inform me about anything?!", he asked, frustrated.