Saving Emma - A Flip Zimmerman fanfic

Chapter 1. Safe Now

Flip's POV

Tuesday, Nov. 19th

You scanned the dark kitchen looking for any sign of life while your partner, Chris, swept the living room. It being the middle of the night and the dead of winter the small, lakeside house was dark and cold.

"This room's clear," you said just loud enough for Chris to hear.

"Mine too," Chris replied.

Where are you hiding her? You thought.

When you got the tip about this house up in Alice Lake you knew this was it. This was where your searching would come to an end. But obviously Jax got a whiff of you coming and skipped out before you got there.

With Chris watching your back you raised your gun in front of you and moved down the dark hallway leading off of the living room. "Check there," you said, nodding to the door on the left. As Chris inspected that room you moved further down to the last door at the end of the hallway. Your chest tightened. What if she isn't here? What if you came all this way and you were just wasting your time? The long walk down the short hallway was suffocating you with anxiety.

Behind you Chris said, "Clear Flip." You couldn't help but notice the hint of discouragement in his voice.

When you finally reached the only remaining door your breathing stopped and the air around you and stood still. Even though the house was only a mere 10 degrees warmer than the freezing temperature outside the door handle felt white hot under your touch.

You took a final breath and opened the door.

It was a fairly typical bedroom other than the white tile instead of carpet. A twin-sized bed and a small dresser with a lamp and clock on top. Your final ember of hope was snuffed out. The annoyingly tidy room was void of any sign of Emma.

Chris turned from the closet and gave you an apologetic look. "Nothing. I'm sorry man," he said hesitantly. You lowered your gun and placed it in the holster.

As a detective you weren't supposed to get attached, it only made the job harder. Actually, that is what made you such a damn good detective; you got the job done quickly and left it at the door. But it was different with Emma's case. You spent night after night pouring over the same security tapes, the same files, the same pictures. You lost sleep and didn't eat unless it was coffee and a piece of toast. This was the first case where you felt absolutely powerless and here you were, at another dead end.

Your anger started to build in your chest as your breathing became forced and shaky. "This is fucking shit man!" You screamed, suddenly filling the silent house with noise. "There is nothing here! There should be something here. But no! No signed that she was even in this shit-hole house at all!" You picked up the clock and threw it across the room, making the power cord rip out of the wall.

"We don't know that Flip, we still need to do forensics and analyze the scene. This isn't a dead end."

You pressed your fingers to your lips and took a few deep breaths through your nose, trying to control your temper. You knew he was right. But that didn't help the fact that Emma was still out there with this psychotic son of a bitch. You couldn't meet Chris' eyes. There would only be that apologetic look there and you didn't want apologies. You wanted to find her.

"Seventeen days," you exhaled. "If we take much longer..." You trailed off.

Chris was silent. When people go missing for this long they are either found in a ditch or just never found at all. But, even with the odds weighing against her being alive, you just knew that she was. You chalked it up to your instincts as a detective when Chris had asked you why you were so sure she was alive. In reality, you had no idea why you felt so confident about it. You just did.

But now you weren't so sure.

Wallowing in your own self pity and misfortunes you bent down to pick up the clock when you heard the softest voice say, "hello?"

Your heart stopped and you snapped your gaze up at Chris. He was looking right back at you, eyes wide and confused. "Where di-"

"Shh!" You cut him off, frantically waving your hands.

Silence filled the air. Then, a cough and another strained, "hello?"

Your heart started beating again, now pounding in your chest as you looked around desperately to find the source of the sound. It was muffled, like it was from another room. But that didn't make any sense. You had done a full sweep of the small house, you would have noticed someone being held captive.

You stood and took a few light steps. "Hello?" You called out. "Emma?"

You could barely hear the response over the intensity of your own heartbeat. "Help," she said.

She's weak.

"Where is it coming from?" You asked Chris, looking at him like he should already know.

He shrugged, eyes still wide. "It sounds...like it's below us."

A storm cellar. Of course. Old houses like this almost always had them. You walked over to the bed and looked under, seeing nothing but tile. You stood up and moved to the closet, pushing aside some boxes to see the floor. Chris caught on and began searching too. "Here," Chris said excitedly. You rushed over to where he was standing next to the dresser and the two of you moved it to the side.

Without any hesitation you threw open the hatch. You were hit with a rush of cold air and the stinging smell of coal burning. You looked down into the cellar, but it was pitch black. Frantically gesturing for Chris to give you a flashlight you positioned yourself for top of the ladder. "Emma?" You said, taking the flashlight from Chris. No response. "Emma, my name is Philip. I am coming down."

You told Chris to stay up top for now and began descending into the darkness. When your boot hit the floor you took in your surroundings. The room was bigger than you expected. It was littered with chains, wooden bats, metal bars, and other terrifying objects, some of which were stained with dried blood. There was a large bucket filled with what looked like water with a sponge floating on top of it.

You located the source of the burning smell. There was a pile of charred briquets and ash in the corner that was still sending small streams of smoke into the air. A small window the size of an envelope slot was at the top of the wall above the makeshift fireplace was open, allowing cold air to come in and hardly any smoke to go out.

Large storage boxes were stacked sloppily, blocking your view of the left corner. Quickly moving around them you finally saw her; the girl you have been looking two weeks for. Emma.

Her hands and feet were bound and chained to a support beam, forcing her to be scrunched up, knees to her chest. Lying next to her was a crowbar, menacingly shining with fresh blood. Emma's bare body was bruised which made her skin look distorted. Her head was down, resting on her knees.

As you walked closer you noticed the blood around her hands and feet. And around her ribcage. Across her back. Down the side of her face. You didn't think it was possible but somehow she was in much worse shape now than she was in the video you had received from the maniac 3 days prior.

With deliberate movements you crouched down next to her. "Emma, can you hear me?"

No movement.

"Emma Hendricks." Her breath was wheezing in and out. "Hey, come on Emma, I need you to respond to me."

At that her head slowly raised, dark sunken in eyes meeting yours. "Philip?"

Relief flooded your body and emotions took control of your senses. All you could manage was a quick nod and smile.

She looked at you, tears rolling down her face while her whole body shook from the cold. Her blue lips formed the words, "help me."

That brought you back to your senses. Ripping your coat off you covered her bare back and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. Seeing her in person confirmed what you already felt to be true: you were never going to let anyone hurt her again.

"You're safe now."

She smiled slightly and then put her head back on her knees, slipping back into unconsciousness.

Thank you for reading! This is my first fic so please be gentle ;)