NOTE: I was inspired by this picture by MirrorCover on Deviantart ( art/Alejandro-Protects-Heather-177345179) which was inspired by episode 23: Aww . . . Drumheller. To me, it looks like Alejandro's in quite a bit of pain, so I took it to mean maybe he protected Heather a bit more than he expected. So, this is what I think would have been an interesting twist if the show was intended for an older audience.

It will be a two parter, the first part from Heather's perspective.

And don't worry, The chipmunk story has not been abandoned. I'm just have a touch trouble finishing it. Don't worry, I've got a plan though.

More than we Deserve

(Heather's POV)

"Happy birthday Cooooooody! I made it myself!"

It took me about five seconds to see what was wrong with this picture. All the sparks from her stupid cake were dropping straight into the oil slick.

"SIERRA! LOOK OUT!" We all screamed.

"What?!" The dimwit barely flinched. The vermin dashing from the plane had more sense. Then . . .

KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

It was like the earthquake challenge times a million. I felt the intense heat and turbulence rattle around me. Chunks of cruddy flight ware crashed down like meteors. I ducked and put my arms up, protecting my newly grown hair. Doing so, I swore I felt even more heat just behind my back.

When the dust cleared, I heard Alejandro's obnoxious breathing down the back of my neck. He had obviously pulled a last minute hero act to gain brownie points.

"Thanks a lot Superman," I roll my eyes. "But I don't need saving, so if you could just mo–"

His choking gasp made me whip my head around. Alejandro was clawing at his chest. A huge piece of jagged metal was jutting out from the center of his chest. Blood was already oozing out in an alarming amount.

"Dios mio . . . that really hurts . . ." he moaned, slumping down on one knee.

"You stupid moron!" I spun around and lowered him all the way down to his side, "You didn't have to–"

That's when I saw it. The piece of metal had gone in through his back, so far that it had punctured through the front. If he hadn't been there, it would have gotten me.

"You— you—" I spluttered.

"Don't say . . . I never . . . did anything . . . for you . . ." Alejandro gasped, blood dribbling from his lips.

"Oh my god!" I screamed like a child. "Chris, call nine one one! Now! Chris?"

The worlds best host was screaming at Sierra for destroying his crappy plane, booting her off the game.

"Christopher McClain! Get your ass over here!" I roared.

"What the hell is it Heather?" Chris stomped over. "What's a bigger disaster than my blown up pla–OH DEAR GOD!" Chris flapped his wrists in a panic before wrestling his cell phone out of his pocket. "We have an emergency! I am about to get seriously sued!"

I rolled my eyes before stripping my shirt off.

"Wow Chiquita . . ." Alejandro smirked with a grimace. "I usually . . . have to . . . get a girl drunk . . . before . . . she . . . strips . . ."

"Can it." I snarl, tearing my shirt in two before packing them tightly around the metal to quell the bleeding.

"Thanks . . . Heather."

"Don't talk, save your strength." I flinched as Alejandro hacked up another blot of blood. He then shivered, despite the desert heat. "Shit, you can't get cold. You will not go into shock on me."

"Always bossy . . ." Alejandro said weakly.

I looked around for something, anything to keep him warm until help arrived. Chris was screaming into his cell phone for help (I really hoped he remembered to dial), while Cody was pulling a charred Sierra from the ruble. Everything else was scattered or burnt to a cinder. The only thing that could provide heat was . . . my own body.

"Don't think anything of this," I growled. I scooted up as close as I could to his chiseled chest without impaling myself and draped my arms around his shoulders.

"This . . . is . . . nice," he winced.

"I said shut it," I snapped, "do you want to die?"

"If it means . . . you'll live . . . then yes . . . querida."

"What the hell does that mean?" I snarl. "Save me and insult me. We're a better match than Duncan and Courtney."

"My love . . ." Suddenly, Alejandro's eyes rolled and his head fell hard onto the ground.

"No way! No way!" I slapped his cheeks roughly. "You are not going to die on me!"

His eyes flickered open again and this time, they were full of tears. "I'm . . . so sorry . . ."

"For what?" I hated myself for it, but I was tearing up too. "You saved my life. And after I–"

"After you what?"

"Oh, just lied to you and voted for you instead, but that's not the point, you go on."

"Bruja . . ." Alejandro snarled, blood still falling from his lips.

"I know that was an insult."

"You got it," he glared. "But still . . . I wish . . . I could . . . have . . . have . . ."

"Stay with me!" I demanded. "Whatever you have to say, spit it out already!"

"You . . . Heather . . . are worth . . . saving . . ." Alejandro gurgled, the blood really collecting thickly, "Like no . . . other girl . . . ever here."

"Th-thank you," I sniffed, despite myself, "You can be nice when you're not a raging manipulative womanizing asshole."

"Back at you," he smirked, then shuddered weakly. I held him tighter, trying to lessen his shivering and ignoring the blood soaking through my makeshift bandage to dirty my skin. Luckily, just then, lights and squealing sirens signaled the arrival of the ambulance.

"Come on Alejandro, " I coaxed with a prod in the cheek, "you gotta stay awake. Help's here. Please try. Come on Latin loser, stay awake."

"If I could . . . I would . . . "

"No, no, no, no, no," I cupped his face and forced his eyes on mine. "I will not lose you. There's no one else worth competing with."

"Miss, please move out of the way, we need to get this man to the hospital."

"You are not making me move, I'm going with him. I– he needs me."

"Fine, get in the back." The medical personal began swarming on Alejandro like beetles, pushing me away. I got up, knees shaking and stumbled into the back of the ambulance. Tears began pouring out of my eyes, no mater how hard I tried to prevent them.

"You big moron, Alejandro," I sniffled pathetically, "You're still wrong. I'm not worth saving."

Just then, they pushed Alejandro into the ambulance on a gurney. He was growing so pale and the shreds of my t-shirt were drenched in blood.

"You can't go out like this," I pleaded, clutching at his hand, "We need to compete for the million together. You deserve that much for saving me."