happy sunday! hope u all have a great week!! xoxo

//

059. CASTLE // PRINCE CHARMING 

"Come on now... It's time to wake up..."

The figure remained at the bed's end when he opened his eyes.

"Zero-Zero-One, are you there?"

Arms pulling against the restraints, his chest was rising and collapsing at an accelerated rate.

"Sweet boy..." the voice cooed. "Wake up for me, sweet boy...."

His bound wrists tugged, but he was again met with the restraints keeping his limbs securely in place. His eyes clenched shut, trying to fight the voice off. His breathing was thick and heavy - and his throat begged to close, constricting his airways further.

"Zero-Zero-One..."

His teeth ground against the mouth guard.

You're not defined by-

"Zero-Zero-One..."

Don't give in.

"Zero-Zero-One..."

You're not defined by what they forced you to become.

001...

001...

001...

The rapid thump in his chest jolted his body awake. Harry's eyes widened as they shot open, staring directly into the light from above. Sweat pooled on the back of his neck, and he could feel the hair on his forehead sticking. His head rolled to the side as he tried to regain control of his breathing. Impatient eyes stared back at him - watching and waiting for the three words.

"I'm fine," he gritted his teeth, "I'm not going to fucking say it, so you can all stop staring at me now."

"Ah, there's our little Haroldina!" Dallas chuckled to himself as he made his way over. Reaching his hand under the table, a switch was flipped, releasing Harry's wrists from the metal constraints. "How are ya feeling, champ?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Why the fuck are you talking like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like a midwest little league coach?"

"Who pissed in your-"

"Boys, that's enough," Doctor Khan interrupted, glancing up from her clipboard. "Your timing was impressive. Any urges to submit?"

With his limbs free of the restraints, Harry sat up and swung his legs to hang off the side. "No, he grumbled.

"Good." She nodded along as she scribbled down more notes on the page. "Although you've made remarkable improvements, I still strongly suggest we continue doing daily sessions."

"I don't need any more fucking therapy."

"Haz-"

"I'm fine, Colson," Harry snapped at the man standing across the room. Releasing a heavy breath, his hands gripped the edge of the table. "Handler got lucky," he muttered. "It won't happen again."

Doctor Khan silently watched as her patient pulled on the cords attached to the electrodes, ripping the monitors off the skin of his chest. "It's only my recommendation. I can't force you to do something if you don't feel it's necessary."

Everyone else believed daily sessions were the best option, but none pushed the topic further. They didn't know what it was like in his head the past forty-eight hours or the extent the controlled trials took on his mind. Harry was tired and mentally drained. All they could do was hope that he would change his mind.

Harry knew what they were all thinking. He wished it was easy for him to agree to continue with these sessions. However, in his mind, that meant he was helpless and admitting defeat. All these years he spent working to forget about his past, and what V had done to him and within seconds, he was back to where it started. All over a few words and a song.

Fucking pathetic - that's how it made him feel.

The desire to give up his power to freely feel or think for himself was a dangerous line. But Harry began to wish 001 still had complete control.

Hoping down from the table, he grabbed a spare towel and wiped the sweat off the back of his neck and chest. "I'm going to take a shower," he mumbled, making his way to the exit.

His steps halted as he noticed a small cellophane bag on the counter. It wasn't the treats inside that caught his attention but the note tied with ribbon, written in familiar handwriting. "What's this?"

Doctor Khan looked over her shoulder. "Rory spent all of yesterday baking treats for the staff."

Harry turned his head, catching the woman's smile before looking back down. "She made these?" Tossing the towel over his shoulder, he used both hands to untie the ribbon. But it wasn't the desserts he was after; it was the note.

"Yes - as a thank you gift for everyone," she explained, "Even had Mr. Romano take her into town so they could buy all the supplies. Everyone was surprised to see the number of sprinkles that girl managed to make him buy."

The corner of his mouth tugged upward as his thumb ran across the pink pen mark of the thank you note. Seeing her handwriting made the devil crack a smile. He missed her. And missing her reminded him why the trails were important in the first place.

"Forget what I said...." Harry tore his eyes away from the note, "I'll do the therapy sessions. Whatever you think is necessary - I'll do it."

"I am pleased to hear that."

"But I want to see her. I'm ready now."

The Doctor nodded. "After your shower, we'll head upstairs."

Harry's expression remained neutral, but inside, a part of him jumped for joy. A childlike feeling he couldn't recall ever possessing - something he continued to work on. Exiting the observation room, he headed down the hall and into the space he had called home for the past two days. Intended to be the area to escape and relax, it felt more tortuous than the observation room at times - the place where trials of torture took place. It wasn't the design of the space. It was nicely decorated and lit. But regardless of how many throw pillows were on the bed or the highly intricate wallpaper in beautiful colours surrounding him, the room remained dark and cold.

That's how everything felt.

Dark and cold.

His one saving grace was a snow globe that stayed on his nightstand.

An object he stared at while falling asleep and the first thing he saw when waking up.

A reminder of her.

Stepping into the shower, he began to wash the sweat off his skin. No matter how hard he scrubbed his skin under the scolding water, a layer always remained. A harsh reminder of what he just went through, the memories he fought every waking moment.

That's all it is, he had to remind himself. It's only in your head - they're not real anymore.

The muscles in his neck twitched.

You're not defined by what they forced you to become.

His innocent little Bambi had no idea the impact her words had. It saved him every single time.

Turning off the water and exiting the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist. Eyes catching sight of the reflection in the mirror, Harry quickly forced his attention down to the floor. It wasn't a sight he enjoyed seeing the past few days. His chest and back were covered with marks from the monitors constantly taped and secured to his body. His eyes looked exhausted and dark. His mouth never moved into anything but a frown.

But as he slowly tilted his head, something caught him by surprise.

The marks were gone, and the remaining few had almost completely faded. The green colour of his eyes returned. And his scowl wasn't all that apparent.

No longer did he see the person he was fighting off.

This time, he saw the person he fought to let himself be.

He recognized his reflection.

Harry looked like Harry again.

Digging through the chest of drawers for something to wear, he adjusted each item of clothing that now covered his body. He looked himself over, wondering if what he had on was good enough. The last thing he wanted was for his clothing, of all things, not to look right.

"Do I look okay?"

Dallas looked over his friend's standard attire. "Is this a trick question?"

"I'm trying to look good for her, asshole."

"Since when do you care about shit like that?"

Harry sighed. "Two days have felt like two-fucking-years being stuck down here. I don't know how she's going to react. The least I can do is look presentable." With another tousle of his hair, he stepped back from the mirror. "So stop being a dick and just answer me."

"You look normal. Does that help?"

"Normal's good."

"Don't get so worked up about it." Clasping his hand against Harry's back, their glances met in the reflection. "This is you and Rory we're talking about. You two will squeal like pigs over each other, have a little will they, won't they kiss moment and go back to normal."

Glaring at his friend, Harry shrugged off his touch. "I said don't be an asshole."

"I'm just telling it like it is, Boss. Besides, the Doc' already said you're moving upstairs until we leave."

"When did she say that?"

"Oh, I guess it was after you left for your shower. It seems like agreeing to therapy was the magical word you needed to be released from the dungeon."

Harry straightened his cotton shirt. "How long until we go home?"

"Two days. Colty and I will work fast on getting the house ready. Don't worry."

"And the new apartment?"

"All settled." Dallas' attention went to his cell phone. "Ah, that's the Grumpy Bear now. I better head out before Colson leaves me stranded."

With his mind swarming with numerous thoughts, Harry nodded along, only half listening to the rambling. There were too many things that they still needed to get solved. Dallas and Colson could say they had it under control all they wanted - but Harry wouldn't rest until it was all completed.

However, there was one thing that outweighed all the rest.

And as he sat on the couch in the living room, nervously tapping his foot against the wooden floor, he waited for that one thing to appear. He ran his hands along the material of his pants, trying to rid his skin of the sweat. Shit. Harry couldn't remember the last time he was nervous. Especially over someone else.

But these nerves weren't just about anything or anyone.

They were for her - Rory.

Rory.

"It smells good!"

The sound of her voice sent him right onto his feet. She wasn't even in the room, yet she had that effect on him. Get it together, Harry scolded himself. But as much as he wanted to pretend it didn't make him anxious, even hearing her voice from the kitchen was enough to send him into a panic-filled spiral.

"Don't you look adorable, sweetheart!" Doctor Khan said.

"Mr. Romano got it for me so I could look the part!"

"You certainly do, my little tennis star! That skirt is adorable!"

"Well, her game is anything but that," Stefano chimed in. "Kid's got a mean swing. One of the most aggressive backhands I've seen!"

That's my girl, he thought to himself.

Harry could picture her smile over the compliment, one that bordered the line of being proud and smug. And rightfully so.

"Why don't you relax in the living room before dinner?" Stefano said, "I don't mind helping the Doctor finish preparing."

A few more exchanges were overheard - mostly Rory fighting back on her desire to help, even suggesting at one point to take over entirely so the Doctor could relax instead. It was a significant gesture on her end, considering Harry knew her distaste for cooking.

Bambi would try surviving on vodka and potato chips if she could.

Harry couldn't help but think about when he filled her kitchen with groceries. His desire to do it was still something he tried figuring out to this day.

Maybe Dallas is right with all his teasing, Harry thought to himself. Perhaps I am a love-sick puppy for her. But if that's the case, would it have started then? Over buying groceries? No, it couldn't have... because before that, there was-

The voice in his head fell silent, spotting the figure standing in the doorway. Dressed in a white pleated tennis skirt, a warm feeling spread throughout his chest as he noticed the grey crewneck she wore on top belonged to him. Harry always loved when she dressed in his clothes.

But while his lips wanted to tug into a joyful grin over seeing her, he noticed how her smile faltered.

She doesn't want to see you.

She's better when you're not around.

She's scared of you.

She's happier without you.

This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come up here. I should've just left her alone. Why can't I just leave her-

"Oh my god," her voice managed. "Are you really here?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Yeah, I-"

Harry fell silent as she crossed the room with haste. Throwing her arms around him, she pulled him in for a hug, gripping the back of his shirt.

Burying her face into his neck, she delicately whispered, "I missed you."

Any fears he had instantly vanished and was replaced by relief filling his lungs. His hands sprawled across her back as he took in her familiar scent of vanilla - god, he missed how intoxicating it was. "I missed you too," he softly replied, "You have no idea how much I missed you, Rory."

Her head pulled back slightly, meeting his glance. "I missed hearing you saying my name."

"What about Bambi?"

"Even Bambi," she said honestly. Her fingers fumbled with the collar of his shirt. "You look good... back to normal."

"Did I not look normal before?" he teased.

At that moment, Harry wished he could reverse time and take back what he had said. Rory forced her lips to form a smile as her eyes glossed over. The look on her face broke his heart.

Harry moved his hand to cup her cheek. "I'm so sorry." A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and his thumb quickly brushed it away. "I'm so sorry for-"

"Don't," she quickly said, forcing her smile to remain, "Don't apologize for anything. I'm just..." she sniffled, "I'm just happy you're back."

"I asked about you... Every second I could, I the Doctor about you."

"She told me. I asked about you too."

He leaned closer, resting his forehead gently against hers. "I know," he whispered. "Hearing about you was the only thing that got me through it."

Rory tilted her head ever so slightly, causing their noses to brush lightly against each other.

"Are you okay?"

A smile tugged on his lips, knowing for the first time in what felt like forever, he could answer that question honestly and say, "I am now."

"Good," she managed softly, "I'm glad."

"Are you okay?"

As her tongue darted across her bottom lip, the brief action sent Harry into a trance. He watched as her lips parted to speak, but no words escaped. The two stood equally as nervous as the other. Rory was left unable to form a sentence. And Harry was incapable of thinking of anything other than kissing her.

The little distance left between them became increasingly hard to ignore. Each beat of silence served as a reminder. His hold around her loosened, testing to see if she'd pull away. But she remained in the same spot, eyes burning with desire. With the hand cupping her cheek, his thumb grazed her skin, causing her head to inch even closer. Her lips brushed his.

"Harry..."

Her voice was so quiet, barely audible. He would have missed it entirely if it weren't for the way her lips gently touched his when she spoke.

This was his chance.

Nothing stood in his way - no obstacles, no doubts.

Just a kiss.

"Dinner is ready!"

The sudden shout from the other room forced the two apart. Harry could tell when she faked a smile. But everything else about her was a mystery he could never quite get right. The second he thought he knew one of her tells, it completely changed. Therefore, he had no idea what the look that crossed the wide-eyed Bambi meant.

Is she relieved? He couldn't help but wonder.

She looked over her shoulder and called out, "Coming!"

Once again, Rory took him by surprise. When her gaze returned to him, she smiled. It wasn't a fake smile. It was a genuine Rory smile. The kind that spread warmth through his chest only she could cause and reminded him that he had a beating heart.

"For a second, I forgot we weren't alone," she said.

"Me too. It was nice." He hadn't had much time alone as of late.

Extending her arm, she reached for his hand. "Maybe after dinner, we'll have that again."

"I'd like that."

Harry intertwined their fingers as she led the way into the dining room. He liked holding her hand - something he never thought would be something he would take note of, let alone admit to enjoying. Her touch reminded him of comfort and calmness, something he needed now more than ever. It was a simple action that brought a powerful feeling to wash over him - something he never wanted to lose.

As they entered the dining room, he immediately noticed the numerous dishes on the table. "Wow, this is quite the spread."

"Oh, it's nothing," the Doctor said, "I just wanted to make there was enough selection, so everyone had what they liked. Sit, please!"

Harry pulled out one of the chairs and gestured at Rory to sit. With reddened cheeks, he heard her whisper a thank you before sitting. Taking the spot next to her, he was pleasantly surprised to feel her hand find its way back to his.

Stefano entered the room, exchanging a nod of acknowledgement with Harry, and sat next to the Doctor. "How much food did you cook? You could feel a small town with all of this."

Ignoring his comment, she took note of the few bodies in the room. "Where are the other boys?"

"They'll be back later tonight," Harry answered.

"Good to know. I'll make sure there's a plate of leftovers for each of them," she said, taking her seat. "Alright, please, start!"

Harry felt a slight twist of guilt as he released Rory's hand. There was a slight pout of her bottom lip as her eyes followed the hand that held her seconds ago. That one look told him all he needed to know. Rory felt the same way he did - his touch made her feel more comforted.

He placed his hand on her thigh, resting just above the knee. Harry didn't say anything. Not a word left his lips about the sudden movement. All he needed was the confirmation of her pout disappearing and being replaced by a hint of a smile to know he was right.

She needed his touch, a physical reminder that he was still there.

Rory reached for the closet dish. "You should try this," she said, digging the serving spoon into the pasta and putting it on Harry's plate.

The four dove into light conversation as they ate. Stefano chimed in about Rory's surprising tennis skills, mentioning how she could be a professional, to which she wore a proud smile over the compliments. The Doctor spoke about how lovely Rory had been to all the staff and how everyone couldn't stop raving about her baking skills.

It made Harry feel better knowing she had been well taken care of over the past forty-eight hours. He didn't expect anything less - he asked about her enough to know she was doing well. But there was something different with the way she interacted at the table. There was a life in her eyes he hadn't seen in a while.

She was able to be more normal in this house. Rory could be herself - or at least, a version she wanted.

When dinner finished, Rory stood to collect the plates but was immediately stopped by the Doctor and Stefano.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. We'll take care of everything. You two just enjoy yourselves."

With the dishes gone and the two adults disappearing into the kitchen, Rory turned to Harry and asked, "What's on your mind?"

"I'm just glad to see you happy, that's all."

"Well, I'm much happier now that you're back."

"You are?"

She nodded. "It's been nice being here. But hitting tennis balls as hard as possible can only provide so much distraction." She placed her hand on his and added, "I still thought about you every second. Mr. Romano gave me updates about your progress... but there was nothing he could have said to ease my mind completely. Seeing you standing in the living room reminded me how to breathe again."

"I'm sorry you're stuck in another house because of me. I promise, in a few days, this will all be over."

Rory shrugged. "It's alright. I don't mind it, actually. It's nice here... and honestly, it sounds stupid, but I feel a bit like a princess. It's been a nice escape. But it's just that - an escape. It's not reality. It's not home." She looked down at her lap. "Like I said, it's stupid."

"It's not stupid." Tucking two fingers under her chin, he tilted her head, letting their eyes meet. "I understand what you mean. We all need an escape sometimes. I'm glad you found yours here."

"We need to find you one," she teased.

"I'll work on that." But in his mind, he knew he already had his escape. "How about you show me the library?"

Her face lit with joy over the suggestion. Hurrying out of the chair, she grabbed his hand and rushed to the kitchen. The joy remained as she spotted the Doctor and Stefano standing closely by the sink, chuckling over something.

Noticing they were no longer alone, Stefano's hand fell from the Doctor's waist. "Everything alright?"

"Can I show Harry the library?"

"Of course. Have fun, you two."

As the two hurried out of the kitchen, the Doctor shouted from behind, "Don't stay in there too long! You both need some rest tonight!"

"Let them have time together, my love," Stefano whispered, assuming the two were out of earshot.

"You know she'd stay in there reading until the sun came up if we let her, Stef."

"They sound like your parents," Harry mumbled.

"I know." Rory shrugged. "I kind of like it." Standing at the end of the hallway, Rory opened the heavy wooden door. "Here it is," she announced, stepping into the room, "Isn't it beautiful?"

Mahogany wood on the floors matched the shelving on the walls. A sitting area with two loveseat couches and lounge chairs was arranged in the center of the room, and a wood-burning fireplace was on the left. Bookshelves ran along every inch of space from floor to ceiling. The hundreds, if not thousands, of books emanated a typical woody scent that reminded him of the library he visited as a child.

Harry had to admit; it was beautiful.

"During the day, I like sitting there," she pointed at the window bench, "There's such a nice view of the garden." Her eyes glimmered. "And, look! The shelves are so high he even has a ladder!" Rory was giddy with excitement as she showed off the wooden steps. "Isn't it amazing?"

"The ladder?"

"Having so many books that you need a ladder to reach them all!" Her cheeks reddened. "Sorry. I know it's stupid to get this excited."

"Stop saying that."

"What?"

"That the things you like are stupid. It's not stupid at all," Harry told her, "I like seeing and hearing about the things that make you happy, Rory."

Rory replied with a meek 'thank you' before turning her attention to a book, shielding her embarrassment.

Harry smiled at her before crossing to the other side of the room. A record player displayed had caught his eye, along with the hundreds of records on the shelves. "So, if you're Princess Rory," he said, pulling a vinyl off the shelf, "I guess that makes me Prince Charming then?"

Cheeks flushing with colour, for what felt like the hundredth time that night, she said, "Is that so?"

Sounds of Dolly Parton spinning on the record player filled the room. Harry made his way back, sporting a cheeky grin. "It's a perfect fit, don't you think?" He extended his hand. "May I have this dance, Princess?"

"You know, for someone that says they hate it," she placed her hand in his, "this is the second time you've asked me to dance, which isn't a lot. But it's definitely more than I ever expected from you."

Placing his arm around the back of her waist, he held her close and said, "Maybe I've grown to tolerate it. But just with you."

"So, I'm the only one you'll ask to dance with?"

"That's right, Bambi. Now..." his head dipped closer, and his voice dropped to a whisper, "and forever."

Rory sucked in a nervous breath and wet her lips. "What if I don't like dancing in the future?"

"Then I guess I'll never have to dance again."

They swayed from side to side, allowing the only sounds of Dolly's voice to fill the space between them. It was calm and peaceful - a feeling he wanted to bottle and keep forever. Harry would always cherish this moment even if she didn't want forever with him. He never thought he would desire this - but with her, it all made sense.

Pulling her head back, she met his glance and said, "I don't want you to feel pressured. But I'm here for you if you want to talk about what happened... or anything at all."

"Thank you. And I want to... I'm just cautious of how much I've put you through already. I don't want to put dampen our reunion by oversharing."

"Don't think like that, Harry. I want you to talk to me if you need to - not keep things bottled inside because you're worried about me."

He nodded in agreement. "I understand. It's just something I'll have to work on... and, thankfully, I'll be starting daily therapy sessions with the Doctor, so this will be a point of discussion for tomorrow's meeting."

"You're starting therapy?" She smiled. "That's amazing!"

"It's nothing-"

"Hey," she quickly interjected, "If I can't call things stupid, you can't brush things like that off as nothing."

"Deal."

The two remained dancing until the album finished, and Dolly's voice no longer filled the room. With heavy regret, Harry suggested the two head to bed. He didn't want to say goodbye to her for the night, but he could see her exhaustion and how she fought back each yawn that begged to escape.

"Do you have to go back downstairs?" Rory asked as they stood outside her bedroom door.

"No, I'm staying down the hall."

"Oh. That's nice."

It was nice to no longer be in the basement. And yet, a part of him wished he was still down there. At least down there, he didn't have to deal with the pain of her being so close. Now, he had to spend a sleepless night without her.

Test your strength, the Doctor instructed him earlier. See what happens when you spend a night near but not with her.

Wanting to prove to the Doctor and himself that he was strong enough, he uttered with a heavy heart, "Goodnight, Rory," and made his way to his bedroom.

XX

001...

001...

001...

001 moved swiftly through the shadows. He advanced undetected, like a ghost haunting the night. That's what made him so ruthless. No one could calculate his moves because no one knew they were playing his game. He killed quietly, taking out his targets with skilled precision and never leaving a trace behind.

Killing a target never meant anything to him. He was only doing what he was told and following orders.

Nothing got in his way.

Nothing caused an error.

Nothing ever stopped him from completing a mission.

That was until the night of mission eleven - the night 001 was never the same Agent he once was.

Everything was going according to plan. The target was neutralized. Documents needed from the secure server were acquired. And the escape route was perfectly planned.

001 exited out the window and scaled the wall until reaching his jump point.

Landing on the roof of the abandoned neighbouring building, he quickly scanned his surroundings for imposing threats. But just as planned, none existed. 001 made his way to the door that provided entrance into the building and headed inside. He jumped over the railing, sending his body down flights of stairs before landing on the main floor.

001 put his shoulder through the door that opened to the alleyway.

Everything was going according to plan. That was until he stepped outside, and his body collided with another.

The civilian landed on the ground due to the impact while 001 remained standing. 001 looked down at the person, cocking his head to the side as he quickly evaluated the situation. They were out of breath, and their current position suggested they were running before impact. Their arms hugged a backpack against their chest, clutching onto it. They were dressed in all black with a mask now hanging around their neck.

A pathetic wanna-be criminal laid before them.

001 never counted his kills outside the target. They were throwaways in his mind - unearned. But he was happy to kill whenever necessary to continue a successful mission.

And missions did not end until he stepped foot back at headquarters.

001 kneeled. A bullet could draw attention. Suffocation would do the trick.

The civilian's eyes widened before 001's hand wrapped around their neck.

"H-h-harry?"

Hearing them speak caught 001 by surprise.

"No fucking way. Harry - is that you?"

001's eyes narrowed at the civilian. Something in his neck twitched.

"It's me, Colson! Remember?"

Another twitch. 001's brow furrowed. His hand went forward, going for the neck before something stopped him. 001 never thought about the process of killing before - it was always second nature. He never thought about the person he was killing - but he couldn't stop thinking about what the civilian meant.

Looking down at the backpack resting against the civilian's chest, 001 noted a keychain attached to the zipper. The design hanging from the metal loops sent a shot of pain through his skill, and his eyes clenched shut.

"You like Batman, right? Here!"

"You don't want it?"

"I have one too. See?"

"Why are you giving this to me?"

"Because we're friends, Harry! And now, we have super cool matching keychains!"

001 leaned back, eyes widening at the voices in his head.

"You, my little superhero, will save the world someday."

His chest clenched at the sound of a female's voice. Head turning, he tried to locate the sound, but the alleyway remained empty, aside from him and the civilian.

"Are you okay, Haz?"

Stop saying that.

"Harry?"

Stop calling me that.

"Harry, where are you going?"

That's not my name.

"Harry?"

That's not my fucking name.

"I'm giving you one final chance, Zero-Zero-One." Handler stood in front of the Agent, arms crossed over their chest. "Who did you see tonight?"

The muscles in his neck pinched, forcing a twitch he could not control. "N-no additional civilians to report," he gritted out.

Handler let out a disappointed sigh. "Commence protocol."

001's teeth ground against the mouth guard, and his arms pulled against the restraints. 001 knew this part was necessary - but a part of him still feared it. The chair his body was strapped to began to recline. His muscles tensed, knowing the unbearable pain that would follow any second.

001 knew it was necessary.

001 knew it was protocol.

001 knew it had to be done.

001...

001...

001...

Harry gasped for air as his eyes shot open. His chest clenched, lungs constricting as he tried to regain control of his breath. Turning his head, he tried to locate where he was, but the room's darkness did little to ease his mind.

You're not at headquarters, Harry, he reminded himself. You don't wake up there anymore.

The room was hot and thick with fear, and Harry could feel a layer of sweat on his skin. He looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was barely past three in the morning. Not a time where he could ignore sleep and start his day - an option he usually went with when it was the appropriate hour.

Climbing out of bed, he went straight to the shower to rinse the evidence of his nightmare. That was the worst part - waking up to a reminder. Sweat was the easier to deal with. Carving words into furniture was a more permanent reminder but still better than when his half-awake state opted to destroy whatever was around him.

Harry knew he needed to go back to sleep. But sleeping in that bed was no longer an option.

He didn't mean to end up outside her door. And he especially didn't mean to choke the guard standing in front of her door moments ago. But he would deal with the consequences in the morning. Right now, all he could think of was her.

The lamp on the side table was turned on the moment he entered the room. "Harry?" Rory whispered in disbelief, rubbing her tired eyes. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

The worry in her voice warmed his heart. "I'm sorry for waking you," he said, closing the door behind him. "I can't sleep without you," he admitted.

Without a second thought, Rory reached over to the other side of the bed and turned it down. "Come here." She patted the spot and waited until he was under the covers before shutting the light.

"Thank you."

Rory yawned as she inched closer to his side and rested her head on his chest. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?" he asked, putting his arm around her.

"Why you're here?"

"Is missing your company not enough, Bambi?"

She smiled. "I'm sure that's part of the reason. But we both know it's not the only reason."

"We can talk in the morning. Go back to sleep, Bambi."

"Okay," she said, trying to stifle another yawn. "Goodnight, Prince Charming."

"Goodnight, Princess Rory."

A beat of silence passed before she sleepily mumbled, "You smell like soap."

Harry smiled to himself, hearing her comment. One thing became clear to him from tonight: no escape from reality was needed when he was with her.

At that moment, Harry realized something about a home.

It wasn't a physical place or a thing.

It was her.

Rory was his home. 

rory = home

harry = ?