A/N Yah, shortish chapter, but I hope it has a satisfying end. He he. If you read my other stories, then the A/Ns have said this too - I'm back at school now so my updates will be kind of far apart (though could they get any more spaced out?) but I will try my hardest to get this fic finished soon.

Chapter Nine

A cold shiver ran down my back. My father knew about Juliet, and here he was about to tell me something about her that I possibly did not know.

"I don't want to hear it," I said aloud, facing my father fiercely. "I love Juliet, and that's all I want to know."

"Do you love Juliet more than your own father, Romeo?" he asked, bluntly. I blinked. Once. Twice.

"You mean how you so obviously care about me?" I retorted. "You haven't spent time with me since the day I was born."

"Would you love me if I told you how she died?" Dad continued smoothly, as if I hadn't spoken. "If I gave you every last detail, down to how the blood from the gunshot wound trickled down her face long after her pulse stopped strumming?"

"Shut up!" I yelled, and I kicked the chair aside. My father only smirked. "You don't know shit about Juliet. You just think you can trick me into believing that you're a good person or whatever you're trying to make me think. But it's not going to work."

"Do you know about the Mediator Council, Romeo?"

Romeo gasped at the question. All the years Paul had known about being a Mediator, and he hadn't bothered to share his knowledge with his own son. It had to be a girl to tell him, to bring him out of the dark. Paul smiled maliciously.

"I'll take that as a yes." Paul's eyes glinted.

"Juliet was killed because of the unbalanced energy," I said slowly. "Because the Mediators were experimented on, and the weaker ones had to go to keep the energy balanced." Paul clapped loudly and patronizingly.

"Well. Done." He crossed his arms. "Do I hear kindergarten much?"

"Well I might be a little more up to speed if my father had clued me in," I said, spitefully. "Instead of letting me figure it out in my own sweet time."

"Juliet died because she knew what she was - therefore agreeing to do her duties," explained Paul. "When she turned out to be crap at her duties, she was killed. What is so hard to figure out?"

"Why they couldn't kill people like you," I replied, with a cold glare. "People who get a kick out of murder." I spat in his face.

"I killed her, Romeo," my Dad said, with a domineering smile. "I shot your beloved Juliet, because she was a useless piece of crap. I was told to kill her, and I killed her." I was suddenly filled with a rage that consumed my whole body, making my fists shake as they curled, and making my heart beat seven times faster than it should. I picked up my chair from behind me, and threw it at my father, hitting him in the face with a leg, and marring his tanned face with a shallow red circular cut.

"You - asshole," I spat, accompanying each syllable with a blow to his head. "You killed her. You killed her - when it should be you who died!" I hit him again, and he made no attempt to fight me off, and just stood there getting bloodied, and jeering.

"Hit me all you want, Romeo," Paul said, shrugging. "It's not going to bring her back."

"I'll kill you!" I cried, shoving him against the wall and hitting him hard in the face and heard a tear of nasal cartilage. A stream of steady blood poured down his nose and onto his lips. His tongue darted out like a snake's to catch the residue.

"Go ahead," Paul said, sarcastically. "That'll bring her back."

"You said she was gone," I whispered, shaking his shoulders. "You said I couldn't get her back anyway."

"There is just one idea," Paul said, thoughtfully. "But it requires a lot of thinking. Sorry about that, Romeo. Guess she's gone forever."

I gave him one last satisfying thump, and stepped away, breathing hard, still furious. "I will do it!" I roared. "Tell me goddammit, or I will beat the crap out of you-"

"O.K, O.K." Paul held up his hands for a surrender. "I'll tell you. But you have to be careful not to change anything."

"Change anything?" I echoed. "What do you mean?"

"Listen!" he scolded, and he held out a silver chain, with a small diamante "J" hanging from it. He placed it in my hands.

"What's this for?" I asked him. He gestured for me to close my eyes.

"It's hers," he told me. I closed my fingers over the cold metal, and could almost feel a pulse coming from it. This was hers. It touched her skin. Her cool, soft skin.

"I want you to listen very carefully, Romeo," Paul said, and I did. "Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't. What's going on?"

"What's going on?" Paul repeated. "What's going on, is that you're going back in time. To the night where Juliet died."