Danger Zone

By Divamercury

Well, it's finally here: the final chapter of Danger Zone! I appreciate everyone's wonderful reviews and support, especially from Spin and Pixie-Dust for all your help in rescuing me from potential writers' block. There will be a sequel to this, and probably a sequel to thatthis is going to be a long series. So thanks so much for everything and I hope you enjoy Chapter 33! Please reviewyou know how addicted I am to reviews!!

Love you all!

~DM

Chapter 33

Mac, Raven, Jackson, and Gabe looked at each other and then looked at me. "You should," Gabe said. I nodded and went into the room. Miranda, obviously busy with other things, closed the door behind me as I entered.

I scanned the hospital room, which fit perfectly in with the stereotype of bare furnishings and pale, white walls. In fact my black ensemble and the red stone of the Witchblade provided the only color in the room other than white. It wasn't the first time I had seen Sara in a room like this. I pulled up a chair and sat by Sara's bedside, watching for any sign of regained consciousness. She had an IV in her left arm and I was happy to see that the Witchblade was still in place on her right. Her skin was so pale it was hardly distinguishable from the white sheets she laid on. I removed my gloves and touched her hand, surprised at how cold it was. Sandwiching it between both of mine, I watched the Witchblade for any sign of acknowledgement but the stone remained quiescent. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, silently praying for everything to rectify itself, still clutching to my lady's hand.

* * *

Sara had been in her coma for ten days and the doctors were getting slightly worried. Dr. Harmon has said that the sooner she came out of it the likelier that she would recover fully. Now that more than a week had passed, he was afraid that her chances were getting steadily slimmer. We had all been in to see her, especially since they started letting more than one person in at once, but Ian hadn't left her side for more than fifteen minutes at a time. I arrived a little later than the rest of my friends did one morning and on the way in ran into Dr. Harmon.

"Dr. Harmon?" I asked.

"Yes, Ms. McPherson?"

"Tell me honestly. How good are the chances of Sara coming out of this?"

"Honestlyevery day she goes without waking up, her chances get smaller. I won't say that it's impossible that she will come out of it, but it becomes increasingly unlikely as time goes by."

"Well, thank you for being honest with me, Doctor."

We parted ways and I went to the small waiting room across the hall from Sara's room. As I entered I peeked through the window of room 65 and saw Ian sitting by Sara, watchful as ever.

This is really eating him up,' I thought.

I walked into the waiting room and sat down by Gabe, who was watching Jackson and Raven play chess on a miniature magnetic board.

"Any change?" I asked Gabe.

He shook his head. "Nope. Nothing."

"Wonderful."

Raven made a move and laughed. "Ha! Checkmate! Beat that, Jack!"

"It's Jackson, and I think I can because it's not checkmate, after all," he said, moving his king one square to the left.

"Damn!" Raven said. "I didn't see that move. Mac, you broke my concentration!" she teased as she captured a pawn with one of her knights.

"Oh, I am so sorry for interrupting your potential conquest. Take that however you want."

Gabe snickered.

I watched their game for a few minutes longer when suddenly an idea struck me. "Hey, you guys?" I asked.

Jackson, Raven, and Gabe all looked at me.

"Has anyone besides me been wondering why the Witchblade hasn't kicked in yet? I mean, shouldn't it have taken the bull by the horns by now?"

Jackson nudged a pawn forward to threaten Raven's knight. "Maybe there's more damage than it's used to handling and it's taken longer to heal her than it usually does. From what Raven's told me, all it's had to handle was a few cuts, a gunshot wound, and a nasty engineered virus. This is major stuff, head trauma and internal bleeding."

Raven made her knight retreat. "Of course, there is another scenario."

"Pray tell," Gabe said.

"Sara's blood has a peculiar anomaly because of the Blade, as we all know. She lost a lot of blood due to her injuries and was transfused with blood lacking that anomaly. What if the transfused blood hasn't yet assimilated with Sara's natural supply?"

"In English, please?" Gabe asked.

"That was English, but I'll break it down into smaller words so you understand, Gabriel. The blood that Sara has had introduced into her system is different slightly because of the changes the Blade made to her blood during the Periculum. The Witchblade might be confused by this, and there's not enough of the blood with the anomaly to clue it in."

"I get it. So the Blade doesn't recognize Sara?" I inquired.

"Maybe. Maybe not. It might know her, but it doesn't know what to do. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, I guess. It must not realize there's a big problem."

"Well, it is broke, so how do we fix it?" I asked.

"Who among us have the same anomaly? Have encountered the Blade, experienced it, worn it?"

"You! And Ian!" Gabe exclaimed.

"So basically what we're saying is if we transfuse some of Raven's or Ian's blood to Sara, the Witchblade might get a clue and snap her out of this?" Jackson asked.

"If my theory is correct." Raven took Jackson's rook with her queen. "Now that, I believe, is checkmate." She stood up. "I'm going to go talk to Ian. Chances are he hasn't thought of this solution." She walked across the hall, leaving Jackson spluttering in disbelief.

"I had her right where I wanted her!" he insisted.

"Not quite," Gabe said.

"Apparently not, buddy. I'll play you. See if my skills are still up to snuff. Gabe? Wanna watch?"

"Not like there's anything else to do around here. We'll flip for white and black. Jackson, heads or tails?"

* * *

I knocked quietly on the door to room 65. Ian looked up and nodded at me. I entered the sparsely furnished room.

"How is she?" I asked, closing the door behind me.

"No change. Nothing!" he said, slamming his fist on the table beside him, hanging his head.

"Calm down, brother. I think we may have thought of a solution."

That caught his attention. "How?"

"You and I might be the key. The Blade has altered our blood, like it did Sara's in the Periculum. I think the transfusions of normal blood may have confused the Blade and that's why it hasn't taken over in healing her."

Ian's eyes widened. "I hadn't thought of that. So, the question is, how do we get Sara a proper transfusion?"

"I haven't gotten that far yet. Give me a little more time."

"We may not have much more time."

"I know."

* * *

"Well, hello, Parker," I said. "Fine work you've done tonight." It was apparent that Parker was incredibly ashamed of himself. Guess that meant that I was the new head honcho now, because if the leader of the Speakers wasn't proud, he was nothing.

"I can explain, Yvette–"

"Save it. You have failed miserably. Seven men out of twenty survived that last encounter. At this rate we will be out of agents in no time at all. And you didn't even capture the Wielder!"

"I've heard that she's in pretty bad shape, however. She's in a coma in the hospital. I could send someone over–"

"NO! You've done quite enough today, Parker. Besides, do you really think that the Guardian and Raven Cole will have left her side? You are a fool! No, we will do nothing. We will have to wait for some time to find an opportunity in which we will be able to isolate her. Irons will not be happy."

"Do we have to tell him yet?"

"No, we don't have to tell him," I said, and I saw Parker relax. "He already knows. He wants to speak to you." I picked up the phone and took Mr. Irons off of hold. "Good luck."

Parker gulped and took the receiver.

* * *

The doctor came in to check on Sara.

"How is our patient?" Dr. Harmon inquired.

"No change," Ian deadpanned.

"Well, that's not good news." He checked Sara's vitals. "She's still hanging in there, but her color is bad."

"Indeed," I remarked. "What can we do about that?"

"I suppose a transfusion might help someat this point anything could help."

"Do you need a volunteer?" I asked. "Sara and I are the same type." I think.'

"Are you offering, Ms. Cole?"

"Raven, I could–"

"Excuse us, Doctor," I said, pulling Ian aside. "Listen," I whispered, "we shouldn't advertise this sudden outbreak of people with this anomaly, although I'm not certain that they did extensive blood tests and found the Witchblade's changes. But, anyway, I might get weakened by the blood loss and that's okay, but we need you to be in top form, just in case the Speakers decide not to let sleeping dogs lie. Please, Ian. Let me do this."

He nodded reluctantly and I turned back to Dr. Harmon. "Yes, I'm volunteering."

"Let me get a technician up here and we'll do this procedure now," Dr. Harmon said. He went to the telephone and spouted some medical mumbo-jumbo into the receiver. I sat down on Sara's left and waited for him to tell me what to do, and Ian resumed his original watchman position.

The technician arrived with the cart a few minutes later and prepared us for the procedure. A nurse brought in a cot and wheeled it in beside Sara's for me to lay back on. I climbed on top and because of Immo's many injections in my childhood, I barely flinched when the young man inserted the needle into my vein.

"This should take some time. Just stay still and relax; I'll be back in a while."

"Thank you," I said, laying back on the cot and trying to relax. Dr. Harmon promised to check in later and the technician was making the rounds but would be back. I glanced over at Sara and was amazed that she could look so fragile after all I had seen her do.

Ian moved his chair to sit between Sara and myself.

"What happens now?" he queried.

"We wait. And then we go from there. I don't know what else I can say."

* * *

I hung up from my call with Parker Grant in disgust. He was nowhere near the leader I had thought him to be. The entire conversation was riddled with multiple repetitions of "um," "uh," and other nervous sounds. Not leadership material. Yvette apparently had taken control in something of a hostile takeover and now Parker would be lucky if he could retain a job as a janitor in the Speaker's organization.

But there was a plus side to this, if that was possible. Sara Pezzini, while not dead, was close to death, and there was plenty of time for me to confront and eliminate her at a more favorable time. Dante and his team of incompetents were out of the picture now, making room for another team of people more capable and loyal.

I sat back in my chair, pondering the future. I would have time to get (rid of) what I wanted. I was surprised at myself for being so patient, since that virtue was not my strong suit, but I knew there was no point in trying again now, even though Sara was extremely vulnerable at this point. Ian, Raven, and all her little friends would be surrounding her, all with his or her own power that could destroy anyone opposing them, and expedition after expedition would be eliminated. I would have to wait until they weren't expecting an attack from my direction and then rid myself of the Wielderafter I got some of her blood. I smiled to myself. Everything would work out fine, and I would get exactly what I wanted. It just would take a little timebut I had all of that that I needed.

* * *

Over the span of a week, Sara seemed to be getting a lot better after the transfusion. Her color was much better and her vitals were stronger, but she was still unconscious. The Witchblade was glowing nonstop now, signaling that it had gotten a clue, and was so obvious that we had to cover it with the sheet before people came in to check on her periodically.

"How much longer do you think this is going to take?" Raven asked.

"I have no idea. I would have thought that the situation would have rectified itself by now. Your idea was clearly right on the mark, Birdie. She is improving."

"True. And the Speakers don't seem to want to try anything cute. They probably have heard about Sara's condition and are itching to knock her off but have probably realized that we're staying close to her around the clock."

"Irons might very well have called them off for the same reason, and you know them. They won't do a thing unless they're being paid," I remarked.

We sat in silence for a few minutes and I actually began to doze off. I hadn't been sleeping much lately because of the possibility of an attack on Sara in her helpless state and I was surprised when Raven gave a loud, joyful exclamation. Apparently Sara had all of a sudden begun to stir.

* * *

It was almost like I was lost in a fog–and had been for some time. I couldn't really see anything because of it but I could hear someone's voice.

"Come on, Sara. Everything's been straightened out nowit's time for you to rejoin the world of the living," the voice, a woman's, whispered. In fact, it sounded a lot like my own.

"Who is that? Who are you? What are you talking about?"

"It's me, Sara. The Witchblade. You'll be in danger if you stay like this any longer. You have to wake up. Wake upwake upwake up" the voice's last words echoed in my head as I inched closer to consciousness.

Ian,' I thought. I could sense him nearby.

My eyelids felt extremely heavy, as if they were lined with lead. A potent lethargy had overtaken me and it was all I could do to move a few of the fingers on my left hand. I felt someone's hand in my right and I squeezed. My vision finally began to focus and I noticed that I was in a hospital room.

"Ian! Ian! She's coming out of it. Wake up!"

"I wasn't sleeping!"

"Looked like it to me!"

"What are you two arguing about?" I asked, my voice raspy.

"Sara!" Ian and Raven exclaimed.

"What the hell is going on here? Where am I?"

"Sara, you're in the hospital. You've been in a coma for three weeks," Raven stated.

"Three weeks! Oh, my God."

"How are you feeling?" Ian asked me.

"Tired. What happened to me?"

"What do you remember?"

"Well, I was in the warehouse looking for the disks for Macand then Grant and four Speakers cornered me and they were stupid enough to start shooting. I think Grant hit the pipes in the corner of the room. Gas pipes?"

They nodded.

"I seem to attract gas pipe explosions," I said, thinking back to how I got the Witchblade in the Midtown Museum. "After that I can't remember anything."

"You should get some sleep, Sara," Raven said.

"Raven, I've been asleep for three weeks. Sleeping is the last thing I want to do right now. Why don't you drag Mac, Gabe, and Jackson in here? This room is big enough for all of them." Raven left to get them and Ian and I were alone.

"If there isn't enough room for everyone, I'll leave," Ian said. "If there's anything you want"

"Well, there is something," I said.

"Anything."

"I want you to stay right here and not go anywhere," I said. I struggled to sit up, hoping my muscles hadn't atrophied. Apparently they were in pretty good shape, because I pushed myself up to a sitting position. I would definitely have to spend some major time in the gym, though. I looked Ian straight in the eye.

"And why is that?" he asked.

"BecauseI–" I stopped. "Because I don't want you to think you're not supposed to be here. I mean, come on, you're my Guardian." I turned to face him better. "That entitles you to stick around. And–" I realized I was babbling and had every intention of stopping when Ian took my face in his–bare–hands and kissed me full on the lips.

* * *

I had beaten Jackson two out of three games and was preparing for the third when Raven came out of the room with a huge smile on her face.

"What's going on?" Gabe asked. "I've never seen anyone look that happy before."

"Sara's awake!" she exclaimed.

Jackson and I instantly forgot about our impending game and the three of us followed Raven across the hall. We were about to open the door when we passed the window and spotted Ian and Sara in serious lip-lock.

"Well, it's about time," Gabe said. We all turned to him. "I've been waiting for them to get together forever!! Ever since I first saw the way Ian's eyes followed Sara if she was in the room no matter what. At least they finally decided to get on with it already."

The four of us grinned and waited until they were finished. Gabe knocked on the door and the pair snapped their attention to the door like two kids caught by their parents for raiding the cookie jar.

"Come in," Ian called, and Gabe opened the door.

"Hey Chief. You've looked better," he joked.

"Shut up, Bowman. But thanks for noticing," Sara retorted.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, sitting in Raven's chair. Gabe, Raven, and Jackson took positions elsewhere around the room, Jackson and Gabe sitting on the spare cot.

"I've felt better. Tired."

"Do you need to rest? I mean, we can leave."

"No, I'm fine. I've been sleeping for three weeks, as I already explained to Raven. All I want is to get out of here."

* * *

I was out of the hospital in practically no time, to my pleasure, and was able to pick up my life again, although it was very different from how it had been lately. Jake and his FBI comrades, who assured me that I had nothing to worry about on the subject of charges stemming from the warehouse massacre because of self-defense, had cleaned out the White Bulls. Therefore it was good that Jake hadn't seen everything that had gone on in the warehouse

Thankfully all remained quiet when it came to the Speakers. I hadn't had any harassment from Irons or from them, but that didn't mean that everything was safe or that the threat from Irons was over. I had no doubt that something was going to happen eventually concerning the two.

Ian picked me up from the hospital when I was released several days after my awakening and he took me back to my apartment. We entered through the front door, wonder of wonders. Before we went inside I asked him, "Are you sure that you don't want to go back downstairs and come back up the fire escape? This is your last chance."

He laughed. I was proud of myself. Not many people could claim to have done that.

The super must have fixed my lock because of the Speaker invasion, which seemed to have happened so long ago. I was glad I didn't have a crook for a landlord. I opened the door and we went in. There was a little bit of a mess–a few things they knocked over in their search for me–but otherwise not too much damage.

"Guess they gave up when they couldn't find me," I said.

"Evidently," Ian said. He helped me clean up, involving sweeping up some broken glass and picking up the lamps and other objects that had been knocked over. When we had finished, Ian turned to leave.

"Ian, wait!"

He whirled around.

"What happens now? Where are you going?"

"I'm not sure. Perhaps to my refuge, although the thought of staying in that enormous place doesn't seem too favorable to me. I'll figure something out." He started to leave again.

"Hang on a second. If you don't want to end up in that huge place, II wouldn't mind if you decided you want to stay here."

"Are you serious, Sara?"

"Dead serious. I mean, come on, it would let you keep a closer eye on me, and I know that's all you're interested in," I said.

Ian came closer to me and said, "Well, actually, there's something else that interests me."

"Oh, really? And what might that be?"

By this time Ian and I were face to face. "Fulfilling our destiny, Sara." He leaned over and kissed me. My hands tangled themselves in Ian's long curls as his arms tightened around my waist.

When we broke apart, I asked, "So is that a yes?"

Ian laughed again and said, "That is definitely a yes. If you want me to stay here, I will."

"Not that it would bother you any," I teased.

It took very little time to move Ian into my apartment. He went to his refuge to get some things, although there wasn't a lot he needed to get, and he definitely wasn't going back to Irons's place to get anything. He brought some of his clothes and some weapons, as well as the bags of my clothes and guns we'd taken with us in our escape.

"Do you think our security can be guaranteed?" Ian asked me as we put our guns back in my armoire.

"Ian, we have enough guns to invade Cuba. I think we're fine."

When we finished putting our stuff away, we sat down on the couch and looked at each other. "So, what now?" he inquired.

"Oh, I have an idea," I said. I stood up and sat on Ian's lap, straddling him, and kissed him deeply. He broke it off and looked at me pleadingly.

"Please, Sara," he said. "Don't give me false hope. This can't be what you're really feeling."

"What about this–" I kissed him again, "–isn't real?"

"Sara" he trailed off. "I don't want you to do something you'll regret."

"I know what I'm doing, Ian. I'm not drunk or anything. I know that I want thisI want you. Please, Ian."

Apparently that was all it took to convince him. He kissed me deeply and we got up, stumbling toward the bed. As we prepared to take our relationship to the next level, it was clear to us that for now, and hopefully for some time in the future, we were finally out of the danger zone.

The Endfor now