Willy moved with absolute care over the next two days, ensuring his outward routine remained completely unchanged. He ate his meals quietly in the common area, exchanged polite, casual words with the guards, and forced his body to sit at his small desk with his phone in hand, though his fingers rarely clicked open any of his apps. Inside his soul, however, the tension was becoming entirely unbearable, like a taut violin string on the absolute verge of snapping.
He desperately needed real answers. Not from the tight-lipped head of security, and certainly not from guards who spoke exclusively in half-truths, but from someone who would truly understand why this silence mattered so much. Someone who actually knew Tim beyond his cold, professional role.
That singular person was Nora.
She wasn't family in the official, legal sense, but she had grown up closely alongside Tim, trusting and loving him like a brother. If anyone in the outside world possessed the capability to find out where Tim was hidden, it would be her.
Late that night, long after the halls had quieted down and the long corridors stood completely empty, Willy carefully typed out a message. His thumb hovered over the glowing screen, a sharp hesitation making his chest tighten with fear, before he finally mustered the courage to press send:
Willy: "Nora, have you heard any news from Tim? It's been far too long. I've texted his line, but I haven't heard a single word back yet. Please, if your soul knows anything at all, tell me."
The response arrived far quicker than his anxious mind expected, his phone vibrating against his palm less than a day later.
Nora: "I haven't heard from him either, Willy. Not directly. Personally, my mind believed he was still deep on assignment. I'll ask my father right away. If he knows a single detail, he'll tell me. Please wait for me, I'll update your line the second I know."
Willy read her short words three times over, his stomach sinking deeper into ice with each pass. Nora hadn't heard from him either. That wasn't right at all. Tim always found a subtle way to keep her in the loop if not with the exact operational details, then at least with a brief reassurance to let her know his body was safe.
The agonizing hours dragged on like eternity as Willy waited for her next message. He barely slept a wink, checking his black screen every few minutes, half-expecting a new notification with news, yet half-fearing that this deafening silence would simply stretch on forever. When Nora finally messaged him again, very late in the evening, his hands shook violently as his fingers unlocked the screen.
Nora: "I talked to my father, Willy. He says Tim isn't with their unit at all. He was officially supposed to check in days ago, but he never did. They have zero clues where his body is right now. I'm so, so sorry."
The typed words blurred completely as Willy stared blankly at the glass screen. He gripped the edges of the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white and ached with pain. Tim wasn't with his team. He was officially missing.
That singular thought lodged itself deep into his chest heavy, sharp, and entirely suffocating. If Nora's father, with all his high-level authority, didn't know where Tim was hidden, then absolutely no one in the world did.
And that meant whatever had transpired across the border wasn't just a matter of operational distance or cautious silence. It was something else entirely. Something far worse.
Willy forced his lungs to take a long, deep breath, trying desperately to steady his trembling hands. He knew panic wouldn't help his husband now. He needed absolute clarity and focus.
The silence wasn't accidental. The delivery parcels, the strange, shaky handwriting on the notes, the completely missing replies it was all connected in a dark web. Someone in the department was actively controlling the flow of what reached his hands, deciding exactly what his mind could and couldn't know. And if Tim was truly missing in action, then that meant the silence wasn't just about operational secrecy anymore.
It was about intentionally keeping him completely in the dark.
That night, Willy sat at his wooden desk once more, his silent phone resting flat on the blank page of his open notebook. This time, his fingers didn't type another desperate message to Tim. Instead, his mind began to quietly plan. If the handlers truly believed he would simply sit in this room, weep, and wait out the storm, they were entirely wrong.
Because now, the only way forward was to go out and find Tim himself.
The New Year was rapidly approaching, but Willy was in absolutely no mood to celebrate. The cold corridors of the estate were strung with festive fairy lights faint, colorful strands trying hard to imitate warmth yet to his eyes, they only succeeded in making the dark shadows feel sharper and longer. In the main common hall, loud laughter constantly spilled from groups gathered around steaming cups of cocoa and makeshift holiday decorations, but Willy stayed far away from the cheer.
He actively avoided his family members too. He couldn't bear their endless, prying questions or their polite, superficial attempts to drag his body into the festive gatherings. His soul possessed absolutely zero energy for any of it. His relatives were the least likely to put up a fight, but they were also the least likely to ever understand the depth of his love.
Everywhere his eyes turned, the ordinary world seemed to be moving forward into a bright future, while his own body stood completely trapped in place, waiting for a reply that never came. His phone lay incredibly heavy inside his pocket silent, its dark, black screen serving as a permanent reminder of an agonizing absence. Days had bled away since Nora's last message confirming his worst nightmare that even the high command held zero clues about Tim's coordinates. Each time Willy's fingers checked for updates, his chest felt the exact same dull, aching thud of disappointment. No new notifications. No news.
He tried his best to distract his mind with homework, but the very air around his frame only seemed to grow heavier with each passing hour. Fond memories crowded his thoughts instead of reality—the memory of Tim's beautiful half-smile whenever he teased him for worrying too much, the soft, rich sound of his voice in the quiet moments right before sleep, and the comforting weight of his strong presence beside him that always made Willy's entire universe feel grounded and safe. Now, all of that beautiful warmth was replaced by an icy silence.
A soft, heavy snow began to fall that evening, dusting the stone windowsills and completely muting the sound of any footsteps outside on the pavement. Willy sat entirely alone at his small desk, staring out the glass at the white flakes spinning dreamily in the golden glow of the streetlamps. The outside world looked so soft, wrapped in a winter blanket, but he felt absolutely no softness within his own heart. There was only a gnawing quiet, a mountain of unanswered questions, and a terror that grew sharper and more defined as the midnight hour drew closer.
There were only a few brief minutes left until the clock struck midnight, ushering in the New Year. Downstairs, the celebrations had finally reached their absolute peak. Muffled cheers, clinking glasses, and loud bursts of music floated softly through the thick walls. Willy didn't move an inch. He didn't count down the passing minutes. He didn't even bother pretending to hold onto a shred of hope for a change. If Tim was truly gone from this world, no calendar flip could ever reset the broken pieces of his life.
Still, the sharp ache in his chest tightened until it was breathless as the final seconds crawled by on the clock. He thought of the very last words he had sent in his letter, of the fragile, desperate belief he had clung to that Tim would always find a way to answer his cry. Perhaps his soul had been entirely foolish to hope.
Then, completely out of nowhere, his phone violently buzzed against his thigh.
The sharp, sudden vibration startled his senses so badly that his fingers nearly dropped the device onto the floor. His very first frantic thought was Nora perhaps she was calling with more tragic updates from her father but the specific number flashing brightly across the screen was entirely unfamiliar. Private. Unknown.
His heart instantly lurched straight into his throat, beating at a frantic pace. Every single defensive instinct told his mind to hesitate, to remain cautious of a trap. But his soul simply couldn't do it. His thumb swiped across the screen, hitting accept before doubt could ever catch up to his heart.
"Hello?" His voice cracked heavily, completely breathless against the receiver.
For a terrifying heartbeat, there was only a low static the faint, distant hum of an encrypted line struggling to connect across a massive geographical distance. And then...
"Willy."
Willy froze completely, his entire frame turning to stone. His knees instantly went weak, nearly buckling beneath his weight right there by the desk. It was a voice his soul knew far better than the rhythm of his own heartbeat.
Tim.
The rich sound was incredibly rough, strained, and breathless but it was absolutely unmistakable. A wave of pure relief and blinding terror tangled together inside his chest all at once. His throat tightened, and for a long moment, his lips simply couldn't find a single word to speak. He pressed the hard plastic of the phone tighter against his ear, terrified that if his eyes blinked, or if his body moved too much, that beautiful voice would vanish into the air like a cruel dream.
"Tim," he whispered into the line, the sacred name catching heavily in his throat as a fresh tear spilled down his cheek.
Outside the frosted window, the soft snow continued to fall in silence, beautifully muffling the distant cheers of the crowd as the clock finally struck midnight. Bright fireworks suddenly lit up the dark sky in magnificent bursts of color, but Willy saw none of the lights. For his heart, the new year had already officially begun not with the world's grand countdown, but with the return of the only voice his soul had been waiting to hear.