FANG POV

CHICAGO

Once the police pull up to the hospital and I get out of the car I am immediately surrounded by reporters wanting me to answer their questions.

"Move out of the way!" the policeman, who brought me here, barks.

None of the reporters stop until the policeman puts a hand on his gun. He then escorts me to the intensive care floor of the hospital.

"Please fill these out these forms," the nurse tells me.

I nod and take the forms and a pen. After ten minutes I am done and I go to turn them in.

"Is their mother coming?" the nurse asks as I hand her the forms.

I shake my head and she raises her eyebrows in surprise.

"She's dead," I tell her.

Before the nurse can apologize I turn and walk back to my seat, to wait for the doctor.

I wait for over an hour, just staring at the floor. Tired, of waiting I get up to go ask the nurse what is taking so long.

"Nick Carlyle?" I hear a doctor call as I approach the nurses desk.

"That's me," I answer, walking over to him.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Matthews, I was sent to inform you that Georgia got out of surgery half an hour ago, you can go see her now," he tells me.

"Okay," I sigh in relief," Where is Hannah?"

"Hannah," Dr. Matthews asks.

"Yeah, she's Georgia's older sister," I say.

"There is no other girl, Mr. Carlyle. Maybe you should go speak with Georgia," he tells me.

"Alright," I agree reluctantly," Will you show me to Georgia's room?"

"Of course," he smiles, before leading me to her room.

"Hey," I say as I walk into the room.

"Hi," Georgia moans.

I take a chair from the corner of the room to move it by head of the bed and sit down. I take one of Georgia's hands and kiss it.

"I was so worried," I tell her.

"I almost died," she whispers.

"I know," I say, beginning to cry.

"Will you tell me about Mom?" she asks.

"I don't know what to tell you," I gasp slightly, from shock.

Georgia has never asked about her before now.

"Tell me what she was like," Georgia says softly.

"Well," I start," She was really strong. Mom wasn't afraid of anything. When she was told she probably wouldn't live if she had you, she didn't care about herself. She only cared that you would get to live. It wasn't that she was sickly it was just that her body couldn't handle having another baby so soon after giving birth to Hannah. Your dad had been killed in battle right after he had been redeployed. Mom hadn't even known she was pregnant with you when he was killed, so he never knew. But I knew and I promised Mom that if anything happened I would take care of you and Hannah. And when Mom passed away after you were born I did what I promised I would do. I bought a house and moved us out of the city, to the Chicago suburbs."

"Why did Mom give you up?" she asks.

"She was only sixteen when she had me and our grandparents wouldn't let her keep me so they told her that i died. And she couldn't have kept me anyways because I have wings," I tell her.

"But we had wings too" she observes,"Before they were removed."

"I never told you this," I explain," but our grandfather was a scientist who worked at the School and he genetically altered Mom. So, even though she didn't have wings he made it so if she ever had kids they would have wings too."

"Oh," she mumbles.

"Georgia, where is Hannah?" I ask.

"About 20 minutes before the shooting, Hannah left to go somewhere with Ryan and she left me alone with Claire and Jackson," she starts crying," I assumed she just wanted to be alone with him, so I didn't think it was any big deal. And after I was shot and I was being loaded into the ambulance I saw them bringing Hannah out of the mall in handcuffs before they put her in the police car. But the thing is, I never saw who shot me because they shot me from behind. I heard that the police shot and killed the person who did it and I realize that I never saw Ryan."

"Oh, god," I whisper.

"You don't think that Hannah had anything to do with it do you?" she sobs.

"Of course not," I assure her.

She breathes in deeply a couple of times and stares at the ceiling.

"Georgia," I say.

"Yeah," she asks after she wipes her eyes with her hands, making her mascara smudge.

"I have to prepare you," I say calmly as I reach up to wipe away the mascara," all of the people who were killed go to your school. And most of the injured were teenagers who probably also go to Jones Prep."

Georgia suddenly squeezes her eyes shut and clenches my hand very hard.

"Whats wrong Georgia?" I ask.

One of the machines she is connected to suddenly starts beeping rapidly.

"Georgia!" I yell as I start to shake her frantically.

A nurse comes up behind me and pulls me out of the room and doctors begin to run from all directions.

"She's going into a coma!" one of the doctors yells.

I break free from the nurse and run up to Dr. Matthews who is also in Georgia's room.

"What's wrong with her?!" I demand, grabbing him by the arm.

"She rejected the blood we gave her," he tells me.

"Take mine," I gasp rolling up my sleeve.

"What?" he asks," I don't understand."

"Take it!" I yell at him.

"Follow me sir," he says and pulls me down the hall to a nurses station.

"Please take two pints of blood from Mr. Carlyle and send it to room 32A immediately," he instructs the head nurse.

"No," I interrupt," Take six pints."

"You won't live if we take that much blood," the nurse tells me.

"I'll be fine," I insist," I heal quicker than humans."

"Okay," the nurse nods, understanding what I mean," Come with me."

I follow her to a crash cart, where she quickly sets everything up. She

sits me down in a chair and puts a pillow. After she quickly tied the elastic band around my arm she inserts the needle into the crook of my arm. 20 minutes later she comes to take the sixth pint of blood and deliver it to Georgia's doctors.

"She's stable," the nurse tells me as she takes the needle out of my arm and throws it away

I thank her for her help and I go back to the waiting room. After another hour I am allowed to go see Georgia again.

"You look better," I tell her.

"I feel better," Georgia laughs softly.

"Do you remember what happened?" I ask, sitting back where I was before the commotion started.

"No," she frowns," But I did have a dream.

"What did you dream about," I ask brushing her hair out of her face.

"I dreamed about Mom," she tells me," Mom told me I was going to be okay and that she loves us. And she wanted me to tell you to say hi to Ash for her."

"Ash?" I inquire.

"Yeah, Mom told me that she wishes she could be here to see her," Georgia says.

"I don't know anybody named Ash," I tell her.

"Oh, okay. Mom must have made a mistake," she says groggily.

A few moments later Georgia falls asleep and I follow. For some reason I hope I will see Mom, even though I know I won't.