This was written for Whumptober 2019, but I failed to get my 31, so I didn't not post any. This means you now get all these random fics as my Defenseless Series. You're welcome.

"I tell myself I have to build defenses
'Cause once you are in love, you are defenseless
Everything was easy when it meant less
But once you are in love, you are defenseless."

Askjell - To Be Loved ft. AURORA

#1 of the Defenseless Series

Magnum walked into the main house with a bit of a trot in his step. He had been working so hard with very minimal sleep in an effort to locate a missing woman and he was at that point of exhaustion where his "second" wind (really more like his fourth or fifth wind) was making him a little bit twitchy.

It was past midnight so the lighting inside the house had been dimmed or turned off in most of the rooms. He knew Higgins was still in the study however because he'd seen the lights still on when he'd stealthed across the yard from the guest house. She'd been helping him out (per usual), pulling just as many long, late shifts as him, and was currently working on triangulating the GPS on a stolen cell phone that contained evidence against the kidnappers.

Magnum stopped short. As soon as he stepped inside, something twisted his guts. He didn't know what, but something was off. It almost felt as if the house was… too still.

Over his years, especially those he'd spent as a Navy SEAL, he'd learned to pay attention to these types of feelings. His heart may have gotten confused on occasion, but his gut had never failed him. Instinctively, he lightened his steps and crept through the house, checking his corners at every turn.

As he moved down the hallway toward the living room, the twisting intensified, putting his stomach into angry knots, and when he finally stepped into the living room, he saw why.

The entire room was in disarray. An overturned table, a lamp with shade haphazard blinking the last of its life, a destroyed chair with legs missing, broken pottery, shattered glass. There were books and bits and blood all around.

Blood.

Magnum's heart immediately sped up as his eyes followed the trail of destruction to—

Higgins.

She was lying on the floor amid the debris alongside a red-spattered native sculpture that he knew used to reside on one of the bookshelves. Higgins was shockingly pale, a stark contrast to the scarlet that stained the side of her face.

Magnum took a step toward her, but then stopped short as his training kicked into gear.

First, clear the room, then administer first aid.

With breath shuddering and heart racing, he did just that – he swept the room and surrounding area quickly for hostiles before finally rushing back to Higgins' side.

There was the tiniest moment, a millisecond when he was sure she was dead -nothing living could be that pale- and as he reached for her neck with shaking hands, both his breath and time stopped. He pressed his fingers to her pulse point and waited for what felt like the longest moment in his entire life.

And then…

He felt it, a gentle flutter. It wasn't strong, but it was there and his breath rushed back out of his lungs. And as he breathed, she breathed. He watched her chest rise and fall. Shallow, but alive.

She was alive.

"Higgins?" he called, brushing her blood-stained hair back off of her forehead as he tried to get a look at her wound. Or at least the one producing all of the blood. As he studied her face, he realized there were more than just the one. There was mottled bruising and a ragged-looking scrape to her cheekbone as well as defensive bruising to her arms and torn up knuckles.

She had fought and she'd fought hard. What the hell happened?

He gently shook her shoulder, trying to get a response. "Higgins, wake up."

Nothing.

Hands still trembling, he balled one into a fist and pressed his knuckles into her sternum, not too hard, just enough to see if she'd respond to the stimulus.

And she did. She gasped very softly and shifted just barely as if trying to move away from the sensation.

Magnum felt a spark of relief. "That's it," he praised, "come on back." He moved his hand from her sternum back up to her face, softly patting the cheek with the lesser of injuries.

"Higgins? Come on, girl, open your eyes."

Her eyebrows twitched downward at that and he waited, breath trapped in his chest again.

And then her eyes finally cracked open.

Magnum felt immediately dizzy with relief. "Higgins?" he breathed out.

She flinched seemingly at the sound of his voice. It took her a second, but then she spoke. "Magnum," she bit out through pain-clenched teeth, "must you talk so loud?"

He would have laughed if he could have gotten past the lump in his throat. He did the best he could though and instead, just quipped back with, "I'm talking normally."

"Precisely," was her reply.

He breathed out. She was going to be okay.

END

Author's Note: Some of it sound vaguely familiar? If you've read some of my story, "Fallen Gods", you will know why. I couldn't get the opening scene of Higgins waking up to Magnum hovering over her out of my head and I wondered what Magnum might have felt when he found her. Now we have some idea!

Read more of this story by checking out my other work: "Fallen Gods"

(This also would have been the Whumptober 2019 #1 prompt, Shaky Hands, if I hadn't been such a failure.)