Amy and Paul's curious heads peaked into the museum, and as soon as they took a glimpse of me they began to sprint. But as soon as they took a glimpse at the pale, human lump in my arms they stuttered to a halt.

I just stared right through them, unblinking and unable to breathe. The lobby seemed to be suffocating me even though it appeared to be an expansive ballroom with room to spare; funny how things work out like that.

"He's dead." I said emotionlessly to no one in particular. Maybe I was reassuring myself of what I had done, or I just felt like telling the dark empty walls because maybe they cared, or I was really telling Amy and Paul without making eye contact. I don't know, I really don't. But I do know that I had forgotten how to feel, I was numb, sitting there with the guy I love motionless in my arms. The guy I love- I really do love him, I thought with dim realization.

This was my fault. Tears glossed my eyes; time seemed to have slowed to an unbearable rate as I sat in the deadly silence.

Brian's hand still fit into mine from when he had leapt to my side, and I tried to remember the feel, however cold it was by then.

What had I done?

I had killed him.

The passionate taste of his lips still lingered painfully on mine. I would give up that one, magical but half-conscious kiss to keep him alive. I would do anything.

"Chlo-" Amy began, tears openly trailing down her face, but her voice dried out into a faint whisper in the non-existent wind. Paul wrapped a stricken arm around his girlfriend's shoulders but, after a second, she brushed it away and was kneeling at my side on the grand staircase.

"Chloe are you-" Amy sputtered. "Are you bleeding?" She reached a tentative hand out towards my polka-dotted-with-blood tank top, but I just shook my head and swatted her away.

"Gun shot wounds, whatever."

"G-gun shot wounds?" Amy stood up abruptly. "We need to get her out of here," she said to Paul. I know she was trying to help, but I didn't want to move.

"Come on-"

"No!" I barked. Amy flinched. I felt sorry for that later. "No," I said more gently. "Please, just let me stay here with him. Let me sit here with Brian." His name left a sweet but bitter flavor in my mouth.

Amy stared into my eyes, my best friend struggling to physically and emotionally help me at once.

I finally dared to look down at him. His deep lifeless eyes were open, staring up at the tall ceiling; his hand was limp in mine along with his legs that dove down the staircase. I caressed his cheek. His flesh was already growing impeccably cold. And at the thought of that, the dam broke- tears flowed down my face shamelessly.

"He's dead," I sobbed. "Brian is- I killed him!" Guilt exploded in my head causing an aching behind my eyes.

"I-is the bullet out of her?" Paul spoke up suddenly, seriously.

"Bullet's," I correctly too casually.

Amy's eye grew wide. Paul studied me like I was about to faint or something. I did feel kind of light, but I knew that was because this didn't feel real. None of it did!

"Chloe, I think the bullets are still inside of you," Paul continued.

"I'm calling 911!" Amy said.

"You know, if things weren't such a mess right now I might say that that is totally cool that you don't even seem to feel the bullet's. Its like you are totally indestructible after you die-"

"PAUL!" Amy scolded.

"What? I'm just saying."

I shook my head. Black spots were starting to fog the outskirts of my vision.

"Don't call the cops Amy," I ordered to her. "Please, it will only cause more trouble. How could I-" I hesitated, still keeping my eyes on Brian. I was afraid to look anywhere else, as if his body might disappear from me forever. I hugged him closer.

"How could I explain this?"

A clamorous thudding from the second floor echoed all over the room, leaving the question unanswered; Amy and Paul's heads to glance up in that direction nervously. We held our breaths and remained silent for a moment. I tried to brush away my tear stained face and I tuned in to the noise up above us. No time for crying now.

Footsteps sprinted down the short hall. Men's heavy, angry breathing. Frustrated mumbles. My badness radar skyrocketed.

I didn't forget about you thugs, I thought with an inward sigh.

Closer came the footsteps. The mumbles started to clear: "You and you, take care of the extras. I'll get that little bitch myself."

Pounding. The noise was throbbing furiously in my head like fire. I tried to blink away more black speckles. Sweat started to form on my forehead.

"Amy, Paul," I breathed, "you have to ru-"

"CHLOE RUN!" Amy shrieked. She snatched my arms and tried to tug them up, but I held too tightly onto Brian's hand.

"CHLOE GET UP! GET UP!" She panicked. I glanced back behind me to see three burly men in black racing to the top of the stairs. They smiled wickedly- revengefully.

"Oh, you again," I panted. "Glad you could make it to the thuneral. Sadly, the invitations said not to wear black. Its just so cliché and quite frankly depressing"

I put myself into a fit of coughing.

Amy still tugged futilely onto my arms.

The three men started to descend the stairs. Luckily, the stairs were pretty long so I had a couple of seconds to say, "Paul take Brian. Amy, go with Paul and-" more coughing commenced, but this time my chest ached along with it- "go find Alek or Jasmine or even Valentina for that matter please. I will take care of these party crashers."

"But-"

"Paul, take him! Please," I said, not purposefully attempting giving him serious, no-nonsense puppy eyes. "I really don't have time to-"

A hand roughly grabbed my shoulder. I winced involuntarily, knowing that I would wake up with a bruise there.

"Couldn't get rid of your dad that easily sweetheart," the seemingly lead man rumbled into my ear.

"Oh my god he is so not your dad!" Amy squeaked in surprise as Paul slowly but surely baby-stepped his way towards Brian and me. Come on Paul, I thought. Hurry a bit faster please!

"Oh!" I scoffed. "Amy, if this guy were my dad I would have to look a lot uglier." The guy grunted angrily and lifted me up. Pain shot throughout my torso, but I refrained from making it noticeable. "How rude! I could get up on my own daddio. If you want to lose so bad you should have just said so."

I could feel my energy quickly draining out of me- I wasn't sure how many more catchy phrases I could come up with, let alone physically fight. But I had to get Amy and Paul and Brian out of there.

I'm not going down before they're safe, I promised myself.

I shoved down a fit of coughing by jabbing my elbow into the man's ribs. In his surprise he let go of one of my arms with a grunt, but only tightened his arm on the other. He quickly regained himself and sliced his free arm through the air and on top of my bruising shoulder without mercy. My body flopped against the bottom of the stairs, the polka-dotted-blood-holes suddenly searing like acid. I stumbled back up and furiously cursed the black dots that obscured my vision more severely now.

I rolled underneath his arm, twisting my wrist so that his bent backwards, and I let my claws loose into his leather jacket. For a humorous second I thought I had gotten myself stuck to him, but then he ripped himself away and let go of my arm to swing both fists in my direction. I ducked. He swung again, this time at my head. I parried. Amy screamed. I was stupid and I looked. Paul had finally decided to listen to me and drag Brian away from the fight but neither of them could move. My mock-dad's henchmen had taken both Amy and Paul for hostage. Brian's limp form laid sleeping on the marble flooring that I was sure was as cold as him.

Amy squealed, unexpectedly kicked her captor and caused him to double over, and she pointed behind me- "CHLOE WATCH OUT!"

Too late I knew. My hair whipped into my face as I glanced behind me, only to come chest to foot. How did my Mi instincts miss that? And I wasn't sure how such a thug of a guy had gotten his leg into the air but I couldn't bother myself with the statistics right then. All of my breath flew out of me and, as I stumbled backwards down and off of the staircase, I was sure I was going to faint. Amy caught me in her arms- everything about me was burning hot. I tried to shake it off but my focus was slipping. I started to slip in Amy's grip, unable to hold myself up. The thug of a man smirked as he casually drew closer to us.

"It seems that your Mi friend is about to lose another life- or five," he said, smiling as if he had made some kind of joke. What a sick person.

"Y-you know," I muttered, still winded by the blow. "I am so much better at the before-something-epic phrases then you are." His smirk disappeared and he snarled.

Amy dropped me involuntarily, as the henchman she had kicked earlier awoke from his stupor and forced her arms behind her.

"Chloe! Sorry," she whimpered.

"Oh, its all good Amy," I said as I unsteadily rose to my feet. "Its not like you punched an innocent girl in the shoulder or tried to pulverize my head or, you know, impersonated someone's long lost father." I stared at him with cold eyes. "Let's finish this."

"My pleasure."

The thug's arm sailed through the space between us, instinct took over and I lunged to duck. But before his arm hit air, his body crumpled unconscious to the ground. I straightened myself as much as my body would allow, astonished to see Paul holding a bloodied flower pot over his head. He looked down at the thug, a bit more surprised then I'm sure he had intended to be. I couldn't help but smile- though my dimmed senses interrupted and told me to karate chop next to me. I did. And I looked to see Amy's captor unmoving on the floor. Not too far behind us I saw Paul's captor mysteriously in the same state as the others.

"My hero," Amy said, clearly shaken. Paul gave her a proud, goofy grin.

"Gah!"

"Chloe!"

I crouched down and pressed my hands to my chest, desperate to clutch away the intense pain. Small drops of blood decorated the polished flooring. "Sorry for that," I whispered sincerely before coming face to face with it.

"Oh no you don't miss Chloe King!" Amy said sternly. "Uh, Paul, get Brian. I'll get Chloe. We have to get to Alek. Chloe, you can do this. Do not die on me again!"

"You would say him," I muttered to the floor, mentally rolling my eyes, which were unfairly heavy and had drooped closed. "I don't really want to die for a third time, please. Probably the seventh attempt of a time."

Somehow, as I passed between a coma and dim consciencness, Amy and Paul had gotten two gravity-restricted bodies into Amy's Volkswagens. We were already breezing down the darkened and sleep-filled streets of San Francisco by the time I came to for a moment. In the back seat, Amy was putting pressure onto my three bullet wounds. Paul drove up front, and I was confused when Brian, sitting on the passenger's side, twisted in his seat to give me a reassuring half-smile. My soul felt as if it had been jump-started at the sigh of him- alive- and I attempted to jolt up, but instead of sitting up I convulsed like a dying fish. Not such a smart idea- my insides exploded and I couldn't help the cry of pain I yelped as Amy calmly shooshed me and told me to lie back down. But I was instantly wired, relieved with disbelief. Brian shook his head, his eyes saying "everything will be ok," and he reached a gentle hand out towards me. I reached a tentative hand out to touch him, but Amy pushed my arm down. Annoyance flickered across my mind. Why would she keep me down when everything was ok now? I tried to sit again, as if I had forgotten the first attempt, and I received the same results. The pain was too much. His dazzling, lit eyes were the last things I saw before falling into the depths of my agony and back into the abyss of suddenly sweet sleep.