Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

I'm so sorry for the delay. I know I suck :( I hope this makes up for it though.

Ashley's POV

The sound of sirens sound all around as I try and make my way through the murky and empty alleyways trying to go unnoticed.

"Halfway to the rallying point and I'm home free." I reassure myself as I adjust my equipment bag's strap and peek around a corner into yet another grimy alley. "Just five more minutes." I whisper.

I carefully trek through the next alley, using the shadows as cover as I walk towards my escape outlet. It's a small sewer pipe that makes its way out of the city and into the countryside where our getaway car is waiting.

The sewer pipe is in sight and I start heading for it when I hear a straggled groan. I freeze and, against my better judgment, I turn away and quietly make my away to the alley I had just came from.

"We know you could not have taken all three shots from your stand point. Where is the other sniper?" A deep voice asked in rough English. I peeked around the corner to see three uniformed sentries all surrounding a shaking and bloody figure.

Oh, God. They have Shawn.

Shawn laughs and spits his bloody saliva at the guards. "Fuck you! I took the shots, there isn't anybody else." He practically wheezes with a slight growl.

The furthest sentinel to the right grabs Shawn by the collar and throws him down onto the gravel before delivering four swift kicks to the American's ribs.

"Shut up you repulsive fool! Where is the other American?"

Shawn's eyes look blankly up at the men as he smirks. "Wouldn't you like to know." His laugh gets cut off by another solid kick to the stomach.

I can't stand here and let my partner, my friend, get killed. Especially for protecting me.

He looks away from the men standing over him and locks eyes with me. His eyes widen in shock and he weakly shakes his head at me. His eyes are silently pleading with me to run, to leave him.

I can't leave him here. He has a family back home. A wife and four children, I can't let them down by leaving their husband and father here.

I shake my head at him in a 'Hell no way' and slide my knife from its sheath on my leg. He gets a determined look on his face as I creep up to the men who have their backs turned to me. I sneak up behind the closes one and slip my knife around his neck slitting his throat. As their comrade goes down the other two turn on me and try pulling out their guns. I quickly reach forward and punch one guy in his throat hard enough to send him to the ground. When I turn to the next guy, who's had enough time to pull out his pistol, I reach for the firearm and grab it so I could bring him forward to thrust my knife into his stomach, twisting it till he fell to the ground. I watch has the light of life fades from his eyes.

I yank my knife free of the guard's body and wipe the blood off on the dead man's uniform. "Can you walk?" I ask my injured friend and stretch out a hand to help him stand.

He grabs my hand but as he tries to pull himself up he quickly doubles over in pain. "Damn." He groans, "Fucking assholes got me good. I think this beats the time when we challenged each other to a game of chicken on our dirt bikes back in high school." He says with a wheezy laugh.

I don't smile at his attempt at a joke. I only kneel down and pull his arm around my shoulders while mine go around his waist and slowly I begin to stand us up.

He hisses when we are fully standing and together we slowly limp our way over to the corner where I left my bag. Once I pick that up and sling it over my free shoulder I shakily walk us over to the escape spot.

"You shouldn't have come back for me, Davies." He whispers barely loud enough for me to hear over the sirens.

"Nonsense, Weaver. You would have done the same. Plus what would Amy do if I came home without your ass." I say just as softly.

He chuckles and nods his head. "She would mostly likely kill you herself." He murmured with a smile. I smile back.

"Not if I kill you both first." A gruff voice said from behind us. I freeze then slowly turn us around. We come face to face with a group of twelve men all pointing M-16s at us.

Shit! What do I do? What do I do?

I glance to my left and the sewer tunnel is not fifteen feet away from us. I see another one of our squad men peeking up from under the sewer latch. I look back over at the threat that is stalking closer than back over at Shawn.

"Go." He whispers.

"No." I growl quietly and shake my head.

"Go now!" He hisses has we slowly back away from the pursuing troop.

"No." I say again and tighten my hold on his waist.

"Go. You have the better chance of getting out. Go and make sure my family is taken care of."

"Shawn. I can't leave you." I argue. Tears are threatening to fall any second.

"Yes you can. You are my best friend and if you love me you will leave me. Now go!" He yells the last part and pushes me away from him. He is now wielding my knife.

The next thing I know I'm heading for the pipes with bullets flying over my head and the terrible screams of pain coming from behind me. I'm two feet away when I feel the pain of hot metal cutting through my upper and lower body.

I'm barely aware of two pairs of hands griping my arms and pulling me into the sewers.

"Sergeant Davies stay with us. Gunny don't close your eyes. Ashley wake up. Wake up Ashley."

"Ashley! Wake up! It's only a dream. Wake up!"

I shot up from my prone position on the bed flinging whoever was trying to wake me up onto the floor with a thud. I grab my chest where my heart is racing out of my chest and I look down at myself to see that my entire tank top was soaked with a cold sweat.

The person I threw off the bed stands up and sits on the mattress behind me and hugs me to their chest. "Ash? Sis, it was just a dream. You're okay, everything's okay." My little sister Kyla, whispers in my ear while rubbing small circles into my back.

I sit in my sister's embrace trying to calm my hammering heart.

"It was a dream. It was only a dream." I internally chant to myself. Once I'm calm I pull away from Kyla and stand up beside my bed and look down at my sibling and my chocolate lab pup Rocco who is staring up at me with his sad puppy-like eyes.

"Thank you Ky. Sorry for throwing you on the floor." I apologize training my eyes on the floorboards.

Kyla laughs and hugs me to her once more. "It's okay." She mumbles into my chest.

I wrap my arms around her tightly for a moment and after placing a kiss to her forehead I release her and stretch my arms above my head. "What are you doing up this early anyway?" I ask while taking a seat back on my bed.

She gives me an annoyed look. "It's the first day of school and you said you would give me a ride." She says matter-of-factually.

I groan and fall backwards on the bed. "Why can't you drive yourself?" I complain, my voice muffled by the pillow I'm holding to my face to keep the sunlight away. I feel the bed dip slightly than Rocco's bulky form plopping down on my stomach.

I hear her sigh and tap her foot on the wood flooring. "Because," she says, ripping my pillow away, "I'm only fifteen."

I glare up at her and hold my Labrador close to me. "That's your excuse? I was driving at eleven." I inform her as I shuffle over to my dresser, Rocco scampering after me, to pull out a black tank top, work cargo shorts, and such.

"Yeah. Illegally."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. Go on downstairs while I get ready. I'll take you to school after I let the horses out of the barn." I tell her as I snag my dog tags off their hook and walk into my bathroom.

"Dad already did that. He told me to tell you to go straight to work after you drop me off." Kyla yelled through the closed door.

I give her a grunt to show that I heard her then walk over to my mirror. God I look like shit; my disheveled brown hair is all over the place, my dark brown eyes are blood shot, and of course the physical reminders of my life are standing out proudly. I place my hand on the large ugly scar that is only four inches above my heart. Out of all the scars on my body this one is the worst and most memorable.

After taking my morning pain pill, I strip off and jump into a cold shower. If I wasn't awake before I sure am now.

"Come on Ash. I'm gonna be late." Kyla whines as I unhurriedly get into my old Chevy Pickup and put on my seat belt.

"Calm down Kyla, you're gonna make it there in time. What are you so excited about anyway? It's your freshman year, it's going to suck." I tell her has we drive down the driveway.

"No it's not. It did for you because you brought in upon yourself." Kyla said while looking out the window and at the horses grazing out in the pasture.

I smirk and nod my head. "Touché. I did bring it upon myself but in the end I was happier when I was being my true lesbian self." That's right. I'm gay and proud.

It's silent for a mile or so before Kyla speaks up again. "Hey Ash?" She asks uncertainly.

I clear my throat and glance warily at her out of the corner of my eye. "Yeah?"

She looks at me hesitantly with her big brown eyes before dropping them to her lap. "What was your dream about this time? With the others you just toss and turn or yell but with this one you were crying to." Even since that night I've been having nightmares about different missions and people. All of them are bloody and scary but none of them are as heartbreaking.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, even though this happened a year ago it's still hard to talk about.

"Your Uncle Shawn." I'm eleven years older than Kyla and I was friends with Shawn since I could remember, so my best friend was known as Uncle Shawn to Kyla and when it comes to Shawn's kids I'm Aunt Ashley.

"Oh." She said in a small voice.

Kyla loved the big guy as well. Everyone did. I remember when we told our families we joined the Marines. The only reason they didn't put up as much as a fight than they wanted was because they knew we would end up in a squadron together and would be watching each other's back. But after many years of being in the military together I let them down. I let everyone down.

After I dropped Ky off, I headed up to work. I work for my Dad's company, Davies' Handy Man or in my case Handy Woman. I basically go where my father tells me to and repair people's houses, cars, tools, and such. It's not the best job in the world but I like fixing things so I don't really mind. It makes me feel useful in this small town.

I soon pull up to Clay and Chelsea Lewis' house where I've been remodeling their kitchen the past two and a half weeks.

"Good morning Ashley." Clay says cheerfully as he lets me in with all my tool boxes and equipment.

"Morning Clay, Chelsea." I say politely and set my stuff down on the floor.

"How are you doing? Are you hungry? I know none of you Davies can cook. Do you want a cup of coffee?" Chelsea asks like rocket fire.

Clay and I chuckle at the dark skinned woman. "Um Yes I'm doing fine. Yes, I'm actually starving. And yes I would love some coffee."

Chelsea smiles and gets me a cup of coffee after making me sit at the table. Ten minutes later a plate of hot food is being set in front of me. Biscuits and gravy with a side of hash browns and bacon. My favorite. I thank her and after I eat and finish my coffee I start working on the finishing touches of the kitchen.

"Well, I'll see ya'll later." I say as I walk out the front door with Clay and Chelsea behind me.

"See ya later Ashley." They say together.

By time I get home my sister and Dad are both lounging on the couches.

"Hey Gunny. How was work?" My Dad asks from his seat on the leather couch. He hasn't called me by my name since Shawn's funeral. Shawn was like a son to my father, so when he passed away not only did I lose my best friend, I lost my dad to. I always thought Raife loved Shawn more than me.

"It was fine Raife." I answer and walk by the couch and up the stairs, ruffling my sister's hair as I go. I haven't called Raife Dad since the funeral as well.

Once I get to my room I shut the door and go over to my dresser where a dusty picture frame lies. Shawn and I had just got home from our boot camps and were hugging and smiling at the camera in his mother's hands. We were gonna be able to be home for Christmas before we had to be shipped off.

"I'm sorry buddy. I'm so, so sorry." I look down at the picture as I collapse on my bed.

I don't realize I'm crying until a tear lands on the glass of the frame. She may not say it but I know even my own sister blames me for Shawn's death. Everyone does. It's all in the eyes.

Rocco whines up at me and I kneel down to pull him into an embrace. Rocco is the only one who truly knows my pain, the only one who loves me without judgment.

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Just in case you didn't know the word Gunny is a Marine term used for the rank Gunnery Sergeant.