Episode 85 — The Fragile Thread
The silence in the safehouse was pierced only by Raian's shallow breaths and the steady drip of water echoing somewhere behind the crumbling concrete walls.
Aria sat beside the cot, her hands stained with dried blood, her eyes fixed on the man before her who had nearly bled out in her arms. Raian's chest rose unevenly, his skin pale and clammy. Every few seconds, he stirred — a faint twitch, a low groan — but he didn't wake.
She dipped the cloth in the bowl of lukewarm water again, wrung it out, and gently wiped his forehead. The fever had crept in overnight. Despite stitching his wound and giving what little antibiotics Saira had managed to scavenge from the storeroom, his body was fighting a losing battle.
"I won't let you die," Aria whispered, her voice raw. "Not after all this. Not now."
Raian murmured something unintelligible, his fingers twitching. Aria instinctively reached for his hand, gripping it tightly. He flinched—but didn't pull away.
Outside, the river groaned under the weight of morning mist, and the sky above the broken windows lightened into a soft gray. Somewhere in the distance, dogs barked, then fell silent.
She leaned closer. "Can you hear me?" she asked gently.
His lashes trembled, and his eyes cracked open — just a sliver. "Aria…"
"I'm here," she said quickly, pressing his hand to her cheek. "You're safe. We're in an old riverside safehouse. Saira's gone to find a doctor — someone who doesn't ask questions."
Raian's throat worked, and he gave a faint, hoarse whisper. "Don't trust… anyone."
"I know," she nodded, eyes stinging. "But we're out of options."
He blinked slowly, each breath shallow. "You stayed…"
Her eyes softened. "Of course, I stayed."
His hand curled weakly into hers. "I wanted to protect you… keep you away… but you kept coming back."
"And I'll keep doing that," she said fiercely. "So don't talk like you're leaving."
Raian tried to smile, but it barely lifted one corner of his mouth before he sank back into unconsciousness.
Aria didn't let go.
---
It was hours before the safehouse door creaked open again. Aria sat upright, her hand instantly flying to the knife she'd hidden beneath the cot's mattress. But Saira stepped inside, covered in dust and sweat, followed closely by a tall, silent man with a weathered leather bag slung over his shoulder.
"This is Doctor Lim," Saira said quickly. "Retired. Doesn't ask questions, like I said."
The man gave a short nod, immediately assessing Raian's condition. His expression didn't change, but his hands moved fast — checking the pulse, lifting the bandage, peering into Raian's eyes with a penlight.
"Fever's spiking," he muttered. "Infection's deep. He needs fluids. IV antibiotics. Painkillers. I don't have everything here, but I'll give what I can."
Aria nodded tightly, her arms crossing protectively over herself as the doctor worked. She hated not knowing what to do — hated how helpless she felt. But she had no choice now but to trust this stranger with the most precious thing she had left.
As the doctor set up the IV, Raian stirred again, moaning softly. Aria rushed to his side, gripping his hand once more.
"I'm here," she whispered.
His eyes fluttered open — just barely. "It hurts…"
"I know. You're getting medicine now."
His gaze drifted to the doctor, then to Saira, who stood silently in the corner, eyes rimmed with guilt and exhaustion.
"I should've stopped him sooner," she whispered suddenly. "I should've known what Ishaan was planning."
Raian's jaw tensed. "Not now…" he breathed, his voice thin and fading. "Not your fault."
"Yes, it is."
"No," Aria snapped, not looking away from Raian. "You helped us. That's what matters now."
Doctor Lim injected something into the IV line, then stood. "He'll sleep for a while. If the antibiotics work, you'll see improvement within a day. If not… prepare yourself."
"No," Aria said firmly. "He's not going anywhere."
The doctor didn't argue. He nodded, repacked his bag, and left as silently as he'd come.
---
That night, Aria barely closed her eyes.
She stayed at Raian's side, changing his bandages, dabbing his forehead, whispering to him even when he didn't respond. She remembered every moment they'd shared — the cold threats, the guarded touches, the fire in his eyes when he'd sworn he didn't need anyone — and how it had all unraveled to reveal the truth beneath.
He wasn't just a mafia boss. He wasn't just blood and power and secrets.
He was human. Broken. Loyal. And hers.
Around dawn, Raian stirred again, this time stronger. His eyes opened, slow but clearer than before.
Aria leaned over him, her eyes lighting up. "You're awake."
His lips parted. "Still… here?"
"I told you I wouldn't leave."
A faint smirk tugged at his mouth. "Stubborn."
"You love that about me."
He didn't argue.
He reached up — slow, trembling — and brushed his fingers along her cheek. "You saved me."
"Not yet," she said quietly. "But I will."
He nodded faintly, and for the first time in days, there was a flicker of hope in his eyes.
---
Later that morning, Aria stepped out onto the rusted fire escape outside the safehouse, inhaling the crisp river air. Her shoulders sagged, finally giving into the exhaustion that clung to every inch of her body.
Saira joined her a few minutes later, holding two chipped mugs of lukewarm coffee.
"Doctor says he's not out of danger yet," Aria murmured.
Saira handed her a mug. "But he's still fighting. That's something."
Aria nodded. "He always fights."
They stood in silence for a moment, watching the sunlight reflect on the river's slow-moving surface.
"You love him," Saira said suddenly.
Aria didn't deny it. "I do."
Saira's smile was bittersweet. "Then hold onto that. It's the only thing in this world worth fighting for."
---
Back inside, Raian was already awake again — weak, but conscious. When Aria stepped in, he looked at her with something that resembled a smile.
"I've made a mess of everything," he said, voice low.
"Then let's clean it up together," she replied, walking to his side.
His hand reached for hers.
For once, there was no fear. No denial. No need to hide behind cold walls.
There was only them — two souls, tied by blood, bound by a love that refused to break.
And this time, they weren't running.
They were going to fight.
Together.