Chapter 2: Incomplete

A/N: Remember to check the pics in my profile!

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"Nicole stop moving or you'll ruin your hair," Lizzie scolded gently, causing Katherine and Helen to giggle quietly behind her. She continued piling my hair in a neat bun at the top of my head as the twins got into their newly purchased dresses. It was March 21, which meant that, that night, the Spring Ball would take place and, being the first ball Lizzie, Katherine, Helen and I were allowed to attend, we were completely excited and restless, though Lizzie hid it pretty well.

We were getting ready in my house and the four of us were going to arrive at the ball in the same carriage, leaving each of our parents to take theirs. Lizzie had previously done Helen's hair and got dressed while I did Katherine's and, at the moment, she was busy doing mine while the twins got dressed so that, after she finished, Katherine would be able to arrange her hair while I got dressed.

"There you go," she said, stepping back to admire her work.

"Oh, Nicole, you look so beautiful!" Helen sighed enviously as Katherine nodded in agreement.

"So do both of you," I said, looking at the twins. Helen was wearing a burgundy red dress with gold lining, while Katherine had a royal blue dress with silver details. They looked really pretty.

"Not as much as you," Katherine complimented as she began arranging Lizzie's dark curls and Helen helped me adjusting my corset.

"Yes, every man in the ball will be drooling after you," Helen teased, smirking mischievously.

"Oh, shush," I rebuked, though I couldn't keep the smile off my face. I was beautiful and I knew it. After four years, I had become the self-confident and independent woman I wished to be. Heads turned in my direction when I walked by and I had already received countless marriage proposals, even when I was barely fifteen. Of course, I hadn't accepted any of them. I still had to find the man that could win my favour and I was determined to marry someone I truly loved. I was lucky my parents were so supportive in that. The twins, on the other hand, weren't so lucky. Their parents were more than willing to marry them to the first wealthy men that asked for their hands, not minding at all how they might feel.

"There," Helen said after she had tensed the last string of the corset to its fullest. She then helped me get into my dress without messing my hair and buttoned it up when I was dressed. I looked at the mirror and assessed myself. I was wearing a white dress with short sleeves and white gloves that stopped a few inches below the dress' sleeves. My hair was done perfectly, a few loose curls framing my slightly tanned face. It was very complimenting, but I couldn't help but think there was something missing to be completely perfect.

"What are you looking at so intently?" Lizzie asked from behind me. She was ready, half her hair pulled into an elegant bun, the rest flowing in soft curls down her back, and her green dress complimenting her dark skin. "You look amazing."

"I think there's something else I should add," I said, frowning slightly and studying my reflection once again.

"What about this?" Katherine asked, holding a silver ribbon in her hands.

"You're a genius!" I congratulated as she helped me placing it beneath my bust line and tie it behind my back.

"There you go," she said, stepping back to watch the result. Now, I was ready to go.

"Alright, let's get going," Lizzie commanded, ushering us out of the room and down the stairs.

My parents had already left for the ball, so we hurried into the already waiting carriage that took us straight to the community building where those type of gatherings took place. The four of us talked more than usual and, even Lizzie, whose mature personality always kept her from acting the same way Katherine, Helen or I did was giggling like any other young woman when we arrived at our destination. We were helped down the carriage by our respective fathers, who were waiting for us outside, while our mothers stood a few steps away, looking as if they were about to cry.

"Oh, honey, you look so beautiful," my mother exclaimed as soon as she saw me, pulling me into a soft hug, so as not to wrinkle my dress or mess my hair.

"Our little Nicole has grown up," my father winked as he kissed me on the forehead after my mother had released me from her tight grip. "You look stunning, dear."

"Thanks," I said shyly, as I felt a small blush creep into my face and settle on my cheeks.

"Nikki, are you coming?" Katherine asked, motioning for me to follow her and the others inside.

"Yes," I replied as I waved at my parents and went towards my friends. When we got inside, the four of us gaped in amazement and awe. The hall was beautifully decorated with candles hanging from the pillars that surrounded the dance floor. Dozens of couples swayed gently at the rhythm of the music coming from a small band on one corner of the room. The colourful atmosphere was completed by the sight of uncountable gowns and dresses of every colour imaginable, some twirling around in the arms of finely dressed men, and others standing around, talking with other people or merely watching the dancers.

It was simply the greatest night of my life. I danced every dance, never lacking a partner and men practically making a line to ask me for my hand in the following dance. Lizzie, Katherine and Helen also had their fair share of partners and, most of the time, one of my friends was dancing next to me. As I was twirled around by different arms and talked to different people, it felt like the world had suddenly slowed around me.

I could see Katherine and Helen holding arms and talking to several men at the same time, flirting with each one of them.

I could see Lizzie dancing with a handsome man and blushing at something he was telling her.

I could see my mother chatting with women her age, flattered by the comments she was receiving as regards myself and looking at me with pride and love in her blue eyes.

I could see my father politely answering the questions that young men asked him about me and sighing exasperatedly before catching my eye and winking mischievously before returning to his conversation.

But there was something missing. No, not something, but someone. My brother. Jasper. I hadn't heard from him since he left home to join the army, three years ago. Neither good, nor bad news. It was then I realised I needed him back. I needed him to see me again and tell me he was proud of me, of what I had become. I was sure he would be home soon. After all, he had a promise to keep. He had promised he would come back to get me as soon as he could; that he wouldn't go anywhere without me. And Jasper was, above all, a gentleman that would never lie to me. If he said he would be back, then I was sure he would do anything he could to do so.

I was then distracted by Lizzie, who was begging me to join her in a song. The whole company, after Mrs. Darcy's compliments towards her own daughter's skills with the pianoforte had requested her to play something but Lizzie, being the shy girl she was, requested me to sing along with her song, so that she wasn't the centre of everyone's attention. After some persuading from her behalf and some people present, I agreed and was instantly dragged by my friend to another room, where people were already gathering, hoping to listen to the two of us.

I used to sing with Lizzie about four times a week, so performing in front of all those people wasn't too much of a challenge, luckily. I could see Lizzie was a bit nervous when she began, but she soon sobered up and managed to play up to her usual standards. When we finished our first song, we were greeted by the warm sound of applause coming from everyone present in the room and congratulations from the ones closer to ourselves, who complimented and admired our talent.

The rest of the night went by in a blur and, before I could realise, I was greeting my friends and their parents, before getting inside a carriage with my own parents, who seemed as tired as I was, but not nearly as giggly and excited. We rode to our house in a comfortable silence. I spent the whole time staring out of the window and thinking of random matters.

"Go get some sleep, sweetie, you look tired," my mother told me as soon as we got inside our house.

"I'll go in a moment, I want to drink some water first," I replied, heading for the kitchen, where I poured myself a glass of water before returning to the entrance hall and starting walking up the stairs to go to my room. I was interrupted mid-step by a knock at the door.

"Who could it be at this time in the morning?" my mother voice wondered from upstairs.

"I go see," I said, going down and opening the door. In the doorstep was a young official, dressed in his army uniform and looking solemn. The moment he looked at me, he seemed to be stunned and no words came out of his mouth, so I considered it better to begin the conversation myself. "How can I help you?" I inquired politely, knowing it would be uncivil to remind the man of the hour it was.

"I'm looking for the Whitlock family," he said, openly checking me out.

"Then you are in the right place. I am Nicole Whitlock," I said proudly, not liking the way he was looking at me.

"Are your parents home? I need to discuss an important matter with them," he informed.

"Just a minute. Please, do come in," I said as I stepped aside and led him to the living room. "I will be right back."

I strode out of the room appearing to be calm but, as soon as the officer was out of sight, I ran upstairs to my parents' room. I knocked impatiently and was unable to wait still, until my mother opened the door.

"What is it Nicole? Why aren't you in bed already?" she asked, noticing my obvious anxiety and discomfort.

"There's an officer downstairs. He said he had something to tell you and dad and that it was important," I informed in a rush, hoping that she would hurry up. I didn't know why, but I felt like something was compressing my chest, making it hard for me to breathe properly, and I was sure it had to do with the unexpected visit of this unknown official. It was quite obvious that he was bringing news from Jasper and I couldn't bring myself to calm down. I needed to know what was going on immediately.

"We'll be downstairs in a second," she reassured me, getting inside her room once again and closing the door behind her.

Having nothing else to do, I hurried to the living room once again, where the officer was standing still, his eyes roaming around the room, taking in its fine furniture and delicate ornaments. His eyes then met mine, and his held such lust and desire that I thought it proper to lower my own gaze. Not five minutes later, my parents came down the stairs, dressed in simple clothes and looks of curiosity and anxiety mirroring mine.

"Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock I presume?" the officer asked as soon as my parents stepped into the room. They simply nodded. "I am officer Charles Devour. I was under the command of Mayor Jasper Whitlock during the evacuation of Galveston."

"Was?" I asked, perceiving that something wasn't right. Why would this man come to talk about Jasper and use the past tense? The only thing I could think of was that he was… No. He couldn't be. He promised he would come back and he was going to. I was sure.

"Yes, Miss," he confirmed, bowing his head at me, his simple statement making my parents shake in anticipation. "Nobody has seen him since that time a few weeks ago and we think he might be dead."

"No!" my mother screamed, tears falling down her face, which was twisted in agony and pain. She started sobbing uncontrollably, so my father caught her between his arms, hugging her to his chest but without trying to soothe her. He was too shocked himself to try something like that.

"He can't be dead," I whispered brokenly, feeling the tears rolling down my cheeks and my body shaking with silent sobs. "He said he'd come back."

"I am truly sorry," the officer apologised, lowering his head once again. "We searched everywhere for him. Here is his sword," he said sadly, getting my brother's weapon out of his travelling bags. "We found it tied to his saddle with his horse."

He moved towards my father, attempting to give it to him, but my father was just staring at the wall, without blinking or moving his body in any way. My mother was completely out of the question, crying uncontrollably in my father's arms. Knowing I had to be the strong one, at least until this man left, I stepped forwards, holding my hands in front of me, in an invitation for the man to give me my brother's sword. I managed to control my sobbing, but the tears were out of the question. They kept flowing freely out of my eyes, dampening my cheeks and leaving hot, salty trails behind.

Seeing that I was the only one under certain degree of control in the room, the officer placed the weapon carefully in my arms, hesitating at first, but doing it all the same. As soon as I could feel the cold stealth between my trembling hands, I couldn't hold it in any longer. I fell to my knees, breaking down in painful sobs. Mrs. Lucas, the housekeeper at my house, saw the whole scene and hurried to escort the officer out of the house, leaving my parents and I to dwell in our misery.

I felt empty, drained. Like I couldn't go on any longer, not without Jasper. Thinking about him made my cries become worse, making me clutch his sword tighter. That weapon may have been the last thing my brother had touched before he died, and I wasn't planning on letting it go anytime soon. I needed him back. What if he had died without knowing how much I loved him and the great brother he had been to me? What if he had died not aware of how much we missed him every day he was gone and how much we wanted him back with us?

"Jasper, Jasper," I kept mumbling under my breath over and over again. I don't know how long I was there but, at some point, someone must have carried me to my room, as the first thing I remembered was opening my eyes, puffy and red from crying, to find myself lying in my bed, my pillow soaking wet from all the tears.

I sat up immediately, looking around my room in confusion. I had had the strangest dream. I had dreamt Jasper was there, sitting next to me in my bed, his cold hand holding mine. But the Jasper of my dreams had been different than what I remembered him to be. His skin had been paler and had felt colder to the touch; his eyes had been a blood red colour, though they had still shined with love when they had seen me; and, in general, he had looked devastatingly beautiful. That Jasper had stroked my cheek slowly and carefully, as if he feared he would hurt me if he made a wrong move.

"Shh," he had said, trying to get me to stop crying and whimpering. "Don't cry sweetie. Everything will turn out alright. Please be strong. For me."

He had then kissed my forehead and, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. I knew he hadn't been real, but the things he had said made me think of what the real him would have said if he had seen me like that. Probably the same words that the one in my dream had said. That I had to be strong. Even when I was little, he would always say that there was no use of crying; that it didn't help anyone, or fix things. He was right. Jasper was dead and my tears wouldn't bring him to life. I had to be strong; for my brother's memory, I owed it to him, for my parents, who needed my help and, above all, for myself.

So I was. I promised myself I would never cry again, no matter what. I stood up straight and looked at my reflection. Even with my hair messy and bushy, my pale and tear-struck face and my puffy eyes, I was indeed the most beautiful creature in the whole world. I fixed my hair and got dressed in a simple black dress before going downstairs to help my parents anyway I could.

I found both of them in the dining room, eating breakfast in an attempt to seem calm and collected, but failing miserably. My mother's eyes were rimmed with red like mine and my father had purple bags under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept at all, which was probably true. I felt the tears building up in my eyes when I realised it will always be the three of us from that moment on, but I willed them to disappear and they did.

"Nicole!" my mother cried when she noticed me, getting up from her seat to hug me tightly, as if she was afraid to let go. I could feel her tears against the skin of my shoulder, but I didn't let mine fall. Instead, I brushed her hair in a soothing manner and allowed her to cry as much as she could against my shoulder.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here," I repeated in a whisper, slowly managing to calm her down.

"I'm sorry," she said hoarsely when she regained the ability to speak. "I should be the one helping you and not the other way round."

"It's fine, mum," I smiled sadly, as she released me from her grip. "I can handle it."

"I know you can, sweetie," she said, stroking my cheek and flattening my hair with her hands. "You always were the strong one in the family."

My father then stood up and hugged us both, causing my mother's tears to start falling again. The three of us stood there, holding each other and knowing, though nobody said it aloud, that our family would never be complete again.

A/N: So, here is the next chapter! Hope you all liked it, though I won't be able to tell unless you review! Special thanks to amaris27, WhisperInTheRain, Rayne91 and Kelsey-Short for reviewing my last chapters and to all of you who have been reading! xoxo