A/N: I DO NOT own Inglourious Basterds, it is property of Quentin Tarentino. I apologize for the wait, I've been busy the past two weeks studying for finals, but my last day of school was yesterday so I'm done for the summer! And I have the rest of the week off from work which gives me free time to write! Yay!

Tepache

When I awoke again the only thing I was aware of was the pain. It felt as though every single organ in my body. Every single inch of my skin. Every bone, ligature, hair was on fire. I was in pain. A pain that wasn't even describeable, and it covered every part of my body.

I looked around, still only able to see out of one eye. Still facing death. Now I just wanted it to come take me. I needed it. Death was better than this hell.

As I looked around I noticed I was alone. No one in sight. Even more noticeable was the sounds of yelling I could hear echoing around the building. Usually all I heard was silence along with the occasoinal wail of torture from The Angel's other "patients".

"Hello?" I called out, not surprised at the absence of my voice. My throat hurt and burned like hell, and the fact that I no longer had a voice didn't really faze me.

A sudden twitch in my throat caused me to cough violently, an action that caused an intense surge of explosive pain througout my body.

I begged myself to stop, and felt a copper liquid on my lips. I leaned over, letting a tablespoon of blood which had just arrived from my lungs fall from my mouth. I rested my head down on my forearm, both of which were sweating profusely.

I closed my eyes. Well, eye to be technical I suppose.

"Donny." I moaned aloud, as if saying his name would allow him to magically appear.

I knew my body was shutting down. I felt it. The pulse of my wrist was right under my forhead. I could feel it,

My struggled to pull the oxygen into my lungs, then stopped to think? Why was I fighting it? Why was I fighting death.

I gave one last straggled breath and settled into the deep bed the welcomed me. The end of my life. To the end of everything, and I was happy to be there.

BIRBIRBIRBIRBIRBIR

"He said down here." Aldo pointed down a hall, concrete walls like the rest of this building. I couldn't imagine anyone being kept here. It was a giant torture chamber.

"Better be down here." I bit my lip. We had gotten rid of the guard about three yards back. After Aldo and I had cut him up then showed him all of th epieces of hmself he was more than willing to tell us where Annabelle was.

Down the other end of the hall ran Utivich, Omar, and Hugo, coming towards us.

"Start knockin' down doors." Aldo patted my shoulder before taking a running start to a door on the left of us.

I followed suit, moving to the right. By now all I could think about was her.

On our way down we had run into some of the prisoners here. Some of the people they had done shit too. It was pretty fucked up. Limbs missing. Bones. Teeth. There were dead bodies. It made me scared. What condition would we find Annabelle in? Would she even still be alive?

I knew she was a fighter, but the thought of someone escaping here alive was a joke.

There was a loud wail as one of the doors kicked down. Another, I ehard a baby crying.

"Here!" came a deep voice. I stepped outside, looking down the hall to find Hugo speaking english for the first time any of us had heard outside of a room.

I pushed people out of the way, not caring and running towards him. I threw him out of the way and walked into the room.

Annabelle was laying across a medical table, her head resting on her arm. There was blood everywhere. Trickling out of her open mouth, from in between her legs. My heat started to pound like crazy.

"Annabelle?" I whispered, not caring about anything or anyone else. I ran over to her, grabbing her. She didn't look like she was alive. Her body was limp.

I grabbed her head, which lolled to the side.

"I need some help in here!" I yelled, panic rising in my chest. There was something I hadn't felt in awhile. Warmth in face face, under my eyes. Before I knew what was happening I felt something wet roll down my cheek.

I wiped my face. Shit. Not her. Anyone but her. Footsteps echoed behind me, rushing into the room and I wrapped my arms tightly around her body.

Annabelle may have been young, but she had shown me things no one else ever had. She was everything I could ever want. Need. It pissed me off that someone could make a girl so right for me then take her away like this. She couldn't be dead. I wouldn't let her.

"She still has a pulse."

I jumped, turning to Utivich who had appeared beside me. He was holding one of Annabelle's hands, his fingers on her wrist.

"You sure?" I asked, running my fingers through her matted hair. Her body was still warm and slippery with sweat, but I had figured she just died minutes ago or something. Was she still alive?

"Yeah I'm sure. We need to get her to a hospital."

"You heard the man. Let's get her out of here." Aldo said loudly.

I kissed her forehead, before leaning down and putting my arms under her legs, cradling her in my arms.

"Hang on there baby girl." I whispered into her ear before carrying out of the room. Whenever I found the bastard that did this to her, there was going to be hell to pay.

BIRBIRBIRBIRBIRBIR

I opened my eyes to hear voices. Muffled voices. Sound came to my eyes.

I became aware of the fact that I was not in pain. I was not in fear. My first thought was that I might be dead, but it was such an absurd thought that I knew it couldn't have been true.

I opened my eyes...correction, still eye. I had no idea what the other one was doing. Everything was hazy. Through my eye I could see a blur of white. Beeps. Black hair and tanned skin. I had to be in a hospital.

But as my vision returned, there was only one thing in the entire room that I saw clearly. He was curled up in a chair in the corner, his dark hair falling into his face. His shirt was bloodstained, his boots covered in something I didn't want to think about right now, and he looked like my prince. My prince charming covered in blood and guts.

I smiled, wincing as I felt something tear near my ear.

"Hello..." I groaned, trying to get the attention of the small group of doctors and nurses conversion in the other corner of the room. They all turned around, looking at me in what appeared to be astonishment. Was I really that bad?

"She's awake." one of the nurses shook her head, rushing over towards me.

"Was it really that bad?" I groaned, looking at what I assumed to be the doctors.

Each of them had a grave look about their face. They glanced at each other before two departed, leaving one and three other nurses, including the one standing over me.

"I'm Dr. Abrahms. How are you feeling?"

His eyes were kind. Light grey, wrinkles adorning the outer edges. He was a handsome man, and a small section of grey decorated his hair. He had an American accent, which made me wonder just where the hell we were.

"Um...considering what I just went through I'm just surprised to be alive."I shrugged, trying to play off my death as no big deal.

"Well, not to be a downer but so are we. You've been in a medically induced coma for a week now."

The news hit me hard. So, I had been hovering in limbo for a week. Not dead, not alive. And Donny was here. So did this prove that he did love me? Funny, I wasn't sure what damage had been done to my body but all I cared about was how he felt about me.

"So...please tell me now...what's the damage?"

He sighed, looking over at the nurse before placing a hand on my shoulder. I wanted to know now. And I knew it couldn't be good.

"Well, you have permanantly lost vision in your right eye. We can remove it if you would like, but we chose to leave it in in the event that you regained conscioueness. You have several scars in including the one extending your forehead to the bottom of your ear that will never go away, the brand on your wrist will never go away, and..."

"What?" I insisted as he trailed off.

"The impregnation attempt left you infertile."

I didn't care about the scarring. I didn't care about the eye. The tattoo. I didn't give a fuck about any of those things.

Except the fact. The simple fact. I would never give birth to a child.

Motherhood as something I had planned on putting off until the right time. In my thirties, when I had settled down with a nice man. One who would be able to financially support a family. One who wouldn't mind having a wife with a mind of her own.

But that would never happen.

I would never be able to hold a baby inside of me. Have a daughter who looked like me.

A single tear rolled from my eye, and a whimper escaped my lips. The doctor opened his mouth to say something then closed it, giving me a look of pity. I turned my head,not wanting to look at him, Or anybody.

"I'll be back in twenty minutes. I'll give you some time." he bowed his head before leaving.

As soon as the nurse closed the door behind them the levy was breached. The tears fell with no remorse, and I cried harder than I ever had in my entire life. 17 and infertile. What a great way to finish out my teenage years.