Author's Note: This is probably the most depressing chapter that I've ever written for anything. It may even be the most depressing chapter on . It's not bloody, or gory, or full of violence, it's just…sad. Completely and utterly heartbreaking. So you have been warned. It's really, really sad, especially the ending. (No, no one dies. I already did that last chapter, and this is almost sadder than death).

Pascy: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I hope this gets up soon enough! Yeah, well, speaking of dark chapters…

Helliexx: Thanks! As always! ;-)

Hawk-Masters: Thanks!

Dancing-with-the-devil 1995: I wouldn't be too jealous; I've read Ace Redemption and I think your writing is great, too! As for the DA on the subject of cuteness…YAY! Finally, someone who agrees with me!

Zapwing: Keep that Moorwen in its tank! It scares me! And why would you threaten Demongo when he brings you nachos and popcorn? And technically, Demongo is right…Nerd Corps © Storm Hawks, including Starling. That's my disclaimer. (Yay! I got to not write it!) Oh, and please, don't send the Moorwen after me when I'm done with this chapter…

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When I woke again, my entire body was sore, and my head pounded, but I was alive, and on the mend. I groggily opened my eyes and pushed myself into a sitting position.

Well, I should say "tried to push." The instant I began to move, strong hands carefully but gently pinned me down.

"It's okay," I chuckled. "I'm not going to attack you." I wasn't mad. At the moment. His grip didn't loosen.

"Are you going to try to sit up?"

I repressed the urge to roll my eyes. What had I been just trying to do? "Yes."

"Then I'll have to hold you down. You might feel better, but you need rest. You're not healed yet." Again, I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. I wasn't a baby. I wasn't a weakling. I could take care of myself perfectly well, and I was fine.

Speaking of being fine, I should have been dead. All the torture had been taking its toll, and I knew that if he hadn't intervened, I would be a corpse in my cell. Even as it was, I had barely survived, and I wasn't too sure if I were happy or upset about it. "Why did you save me?" I burst out. "Why are you helping me?"

He looked deep in thought. "I'll answer your question truthfully if you'll do the same for one of mine, and answer mine first."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" I spat. "You're not getting any information from me that Cyclonia can use in this war."

He smiled. "If you don't like the question, you don't have to answer, then I just won't answer yours."

I thought about it. It didn't seem like there was any way he could trap me with this game, and I was curious. Slowly, I nodded. "Could you let go of me, though?" I asked.

"Only if you won't try to sit up."

He was winning the stubbornness contest, and he knew it. I nodded again, cursing internally for surrendering so easily. It's not that my wrists were hurting or anything—he was very careful to be gentle—I just felt awkward lying in bed with him half on top of me. I remembered what had happened last night, him saving me again, and half of me was grateful, but half of me hated his guts. I wanted him away, I needed him away, I needed breathing room.

"Go on, ask your stupid question," I grumbled.

He smiled. "Why did you attack me last night? What was going through your head that gave you the strength to leap on top of me and pin me to the ground when you couldn't even stand?"

Damm, him and his stupid mind games. That was a question I did not want to answer, but at the same time, any information about why I was alive might be vital in planning an escape. I didn't even have a reasonable excuse not to answer—after all, he wasn't pumping me for information about Atmosian battle plans.

Ever heard the saying "Curiosity killed the cat"? I knew I shouldn't tell him anything at all, but I really wanted to know why in the world he had gone through so much trouble to keep me alive.

"When I woke up, with the fever and all, I didn't really remember anything," I began. He motioned for me to continue. "And, well, you were standing right above me and I was lying in your bed and my uniform was gone!"

I was blushing furiously now, and I hated myself for it. Somehow, it was hard to remain emotionless around him, especially since he had saved my life. "Oh." He let the silence stretch out, lengthening my embarrassment. "I understand completely. In fact, I would have tried to strangle me, too."

I glared at him. "Now you're teasing me."

His unreadable red eyes widened in fake fear. "Oh, no, I'd be way to intimidated to tease you. You might try to strangle me again."

I had to remind myself that I didn't want to break open my healing wounds. No matter how much I longed to feel my hands around his throat again, I had to wait. I always had that option when I was fully recovered. With supreme effort, I forced myself to relax.

"Your turn," I said coolly. "Why am I alive?"

The Dark Ace sighed, forcing himself to meet my eyes. They seemed confused, uncertain, almost pleading. "After your little show in the throne room, Master Cyclonis had a mission for me. I was away for a week. When I finally returned, I was surprised to hear you were still alive. I knew you'd never give in, and I just assumed that you would have died by then." No wonder he had refused to meet my eyes when they had dragged me away. I had already been dead to him.

"You're a fighter, a warrior, a predator. No soldier deserves to die rotting away in some cell. The death of anyone who fights as their life—even a Sky Knight—should be at the end of a sword. I came to end your misery."

Wow. I was luckier to be alive than I thought. Stupid luck, picking me at the worst times when I didn't want it.

"I came down to the dungeons, and you were still alive and kicking. It was killing me, the idea that I was there to kill you. For some reason, I just couldn't take your life. Then I realized if you had enough will to stay alive that long, you could probably survive if you got some medical care. I'm not a trained doctor, but I've gotten enough wounds myself and I've nursed enough of my men back to health to know what works and what doesn't. So I cleaned you up and healed you."

This made things a lot more complicated. It would almost be better if they were healing me for another horrendous torture, or if Master Cyclonis had plans for me. This…saving my life on an impulse put me in a very fragile situation. After all, as soon as I healed, I would be returned to the cell, and to the torture. Besides the fact that I wasn't sure how much more pain I could take, it would make escape a lot harder.

Did I really want to live? I had gotten a taste of death, and it was beautiful. Suddenly, I longed to be in the bright, happy, peaceful light again. I turned my eyes to the man who had taken me from it, hate flashing through my green gaze.

"You bloody idiot!" I screamed. "I hate this stupid life! I was almost there! I was that close! Everyone who has ever meant anything to me has already left this world, and I was just about to join them, and you BROUGHT ME BACK!" He backed up slowly, hands in the air, as I sat up. Thoughts of restraining me or stitches were gone from both of our minds.

"Why? Why would you do that to me? I would understand if it were for some new torture, or if Cyclonis wanted me publicly executed. But you had no good reason to save me, just like I had no good reason to be saved. This world holds nothing more for me. I was so close, and now I'll have to go through it all again. Because that's all that's left here for me: death. Why? Why?" My voice was cracking. Was there moisture on my cheeks?

"I HATE YOU!" I screamed. "WHY COULDN'T YOU JUST LET ME DIE IN PEACE! YOU WERE TOO FREAKING WEAK! YOU COULDN'T KILL ME, AND NOW I'M THE ONE WHO WILL PAY THE PRICE!"

His eyes flashed. "Oh, I'm too weak?" he spat. "Says the girl who caused the death of her squadron, but was perfectly capable of protecting herself when the time came. No, I think you wanted to live a lot more than you cared about your so-called friends. I think that you're the one who's too scared to realize just how close to loosing it all that you came. I think you're embarrassed that you needed my help, and that death is easier than admitting that you owe me your life!"

The words punctured me, deflating me. I felt like an empty balloon. My eyes stared straight ahead, seeing nothing. The numbness, reminding me creepily of what death was like, was back. Everything was numb. I sat still, like a statue, and the tears poured down my cheeks. I didn't even have the energy to be angry anymore.

He was right. It was my fault that they had all died. I couldn't have really seen them, because they would have hated me, not forgiven me. I doubted my parents could care for the monster I had become. I was unlovable. The happiness that I thought I had felt was just another hallucination, brought on by the fever and my inability to deal with the pain.

I was unlovable.

"Starling?" His voice sounded apologetic, but I didn't react at all. I was trapped in the nothingness again; I barely heard him.

"Starling, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it," he pleaded.

When you speak in anger, when you lose control, that is when you say your thoughts. That is when you truly mean everything. Even if you didn't, it doesn't matter whether you meant it or not. What matters is that it is true. I am unlovable. I didn't speak. I just stared straight ahead, glassy eyes fixed on nothing.

"Starling, do something, anything, please."

I closed my eyes. I took the easy escape. I let unconsciousness take me away from this living hell, and hoped for a dreamless sleep. I had no reason to keep on living, and no heaven waiting for me after death.

I was Starling, the monster. Starling, the murderer. Starling, the weakling. Starling, who killed everyone that got close to me. I was Starling, the unlovable.

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*sobbing uncontrollably* It makes me cry…then again, a lot of things make me cry…review…*grabs a tissue*…please…