Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters such as MacGyver, Pete, ect….although I do own the character Alexis and would like to keep it that way.

Chapter 4

Going to Zaven's house was a task in its own. I had my overnight bag with the necessities, her gift, my cell, and father with his worried looks the whole way there. I tried to tell him that I was going to be fine, that I had no reason to get upset at Zaven's and that I wouldn't have, what we had begun to call, another episode.

He sighed, hugging me tightly before letting me get out of the car, kissing my cheek gently. Sometimes I wondered if I was being babied, but I deserved it on the weekends, because during the week I was too adult—as my father and Pete had pointed out several times, so I guess it leveled out somewhere.

"Your cell is on?" he asked.

I nodded with a smile, pulling the device out of it's holder on my belt and showed him that the power was on and that the battery was fully charged, "And I have the charger," I added, clipping it back onto my belt.

"Alright," he said as I opened the door and stepped out, "Have fun and be…"

I cut him off, hearing this line a thousand times in my seventeen years, "…be polite, well behaved and good mannered," I finished with a smile. He smiled as I closed the door and walked up the driveway as he drove off.

I walked into the place, kicking my shoes off—this being Zaven's apartment and her parents not around, she never really got along with her step-father and was out of the house on graduation night. I dropped my stuff off in the doorway and headed into the kitchen where I found Zaven and Arie making some popcorn.

I smiled as Zaven caught my eye and threw a piece of popcorn at me, which I caught and tossed in my mouth. "Hey there," I called, grabbing Arie's attention, her back being to me as she grabbed a couple glasses out of the cupboard.

She turned to me, "Hey there stranger," she said. I smiled, knowing that it had been a couple of weeks since I last spoke to her, but we weren't that close anymore and I didn't bother calling her when I was on assignment. She didn't really agree with my decision to skip the whole university thing and jump into the work field, and we didn't really bother fighting about it, only because I told her straight out that it was my life and that she was jealous that I had managed to land a damn good paying job and wouldn't have the trouble of student loans afterwards. We didn't speak for a while and we never really got that close when we did start again.

"What's new?" I asked, watching as she shrugged.

"Got accepting to my university course," she said, grabbing the bowl of popcorn that she had just poured and handed it to Zaven, "I leave next week."

"That's cool," I said, laughing inside that I was right about our previous fight, and Zaven knew what I was thinking and started to giggle. Zaven wanted to do a lot of stuff and didn't really know where to start, so she decided to take a year off and figure herself out before she paid out any money to get the courses she needed under her belt, which was cool with me.

"I'm glad your dad let you come," Zaven said as I placed the box with her gift in it on the counter.

"Yeah, he sure does have you on a short leash huh?" Arie added. I glared at the back of her head but said nothing because I didn't want to start a feud in the middle of Zaven's birthday.

"He was worried, that's all," I said, dropping my glare as Zaven looked at me and shrugged. I rolled my eyes and we headed into the living room where there was music playing.

"Hey Lex, did you bring that C.D. I like?" Zaven asked, turning to me as she pivoted in her seat to face me completely.

I shook my head, "I did better," I replied, "My lap top is in the entrance, any song I have is one there," I said with a smile as Zaven tossed me a smirk.

"Good thinking," she replied as Arie glared at the television. I kicked myself mentally sudden as I realized that I sounded like a total snob. I didn't want to brag, but I worked damn hard for what I have and work even harder to keep it—I was still making payments on that laptop and I paid monthly on my cell phone! I never understood why she hated the fact that I was successful and I didn't have to go through seven more years of school to do it. So my father had connections, let's face it, Pete was my friend to—he was there the day my father brought me home from the hospital, the day I learned to ride a bike—both petal and motor—he was there the day I broke my arm, the day I graduated, and the day I joined the Phoenix Foundation. How much more does the man have to do before she can class him as my friend? I hated the fact that she was jealous of me, but I couldn't help it if I was ahead of her in life, Zaven understood that and was happy for me, why couldn't she be?

"So anyway," I said, changing the subject as I realized that the room had felt silent and had become very tense, "What do you got planned Zaven now that you're nineteen?"

She laughed, "Well if I lived in Canada, I'd be drinking," she said with a smile, "besides, that, all I want to do is survive to see twenty."

I laughed, understanding that feeling completely. Arie had lightened up after some time, like she always did, and we got to laughing and talking like we used to in high school, the only difference was we didn't have to worry about waking someone's parents.

Around two in the morning we were still up and dancing around with my laptop playing music. Arie was singing along with the song while Zaven and I got some more drinks and chips in the kitchen. When there was a break in the music, Arie playing around to find another song so nothing was currently playing, a loud thump rang through the small apartment, making all of us jump.

"It was probably just Rufus," I reasoned, that being Zaven's new kitten, a playful little guy that was completely capable of knocking something over in the other room, "I'll go and check up on it."

I headed down the small hallway and into the back bedroom, walking into the room and picked up the little kitten at my feet, turning my back to the dark room with a laugh, "It was Rufus guys," I called, hearing the two of them talking in the living room about what if it were a burglar or a murderer, "You're an energetic little guy, aren't…" I was cut off suddenly as I was hit in the back of the head and brought to my knees, throwing Rufus into the hallway, watching as the kitten hit into the hall and ran down into the living room.

I felt a wet, sticky substance starting to run down the back of my neck, bringing a hand up to touch it, felt it's thick consistency before I was pulled to my feet roughly by my hair and suddenly had an arm wrapped around my waist to keep me from running away.

The man holding me smelled of liquor, which made me want to vomit right there, but I managed to hold firm and fight him, trying desperately to reach my cell phone that happened to be just out of reach.

"Zave, call 911, quickly!" I screamed as the man's grip tighten on me and his hand, the one that had a handful of my hair, released me and moved to my mouth, making me cry out to his touch and continue to struggle, this time managing a hit or two on him as he tried to resist my movements.

We both hit our knees suddenly as he brought me down to the floor, my cell phone falling out of its clip and sliding across the floor out into the hall as I accidentally kicked it in my struggles. I continued to fight the man to no avail, his strength far superior to my own and suddenly I cried out from under his hand as the burning in my back flared up suddenly.

'No,' I thought to myself, 'Not now!' But no matter how hard I tried to fight it, the burning continued as the man managed to bring me to the floor entirely, turning me over onto my back, which consequently caused me to cry out again in pain, and he straddled me as I kicked frantically, but every kick missed except one or two that had no affect on the massive man's structure.

I began to cry, out of fear or pain I wasn't sure, but just as tears began to fall down my cheeks, the man laughed, making me even more angry. I had one hand on the man's chest and the other on his upper arm, and I realized that one of two things had to happen soon or I would die; either the cops had to show up, or the burning in my back had to move up my arm and into my hand, turn into blue light, and throw this guy off of me before he strangled me to death.

I could hear Arie and Zaven yelling at one another in the other room about whether to come down the hall or not; Zaven wanting to come down and kill the guy with a kitchen bread knife while Arie wanted her to wait for the cops, who were on their way. I couldn't have cared less at this point what either of them did; I just wanted this guy to leave me alone. I began to cry as his hands moved from my mouth and shoulder to around my throat and I cried out as he began to chock the life out of me.

I gagged loudly as I struggled to get some air into my deprived lungs and at the same time had managed to plant one hand on his chest firmly while I automatically placed the other around his hands to try and break his grip, which was a joke because this guy could have easily snapped my neck if he wanted to and I thought at that moment that he was having more fun by doing it slowly.

"Zaven!" I cried out in exasperation, now frustrated that my two friends were busy fighting with one another while I was slowly being chocked to death on her bedroom floor. I cried out as I gripped a handful of his shirt in my tight fist and the burning shot from my back, up my arm and into my hand where it stayed there momentarily until I opened my hand.

By this point I was seeing stars, black dots, and was feeling sick to my stomach as my blood began to pool around my head. I saw the man's body light up in light blue light and then sudden fly across the room to hit into the opposite wall, slide down the wall and lay on the floor coughing. I coughed as well, feeling air fill my lungs as I closed my eyes, feeling dizzy, scared, angry, and a lot of other emotions all at once. I rolled over, holding my throat with one hand as I used the other to try and stop the blood flow, but it was pointless.

I coughed again as I began to hear foot steps running down the hallway and three cops entered the room, one flicking on the light which had remained off all this time while the other two of them stepped over me to go to the would be robber/murderer, which I found funny because I was the victim and I was the one bleeding to death on the floor. The one that had turned on the light, a younger man, knelt down to my level and placed two fingers under my jaw.

"She's alive!" he called as I rolled over onto my back with a groan.

"No shit Sherlock!" I shot back angrily, my vision blurry and the pain in my back starting to dull, which was unusual because normally it takes a night's sleep before that happens, "What took you so God damn long?" I demanded angrily as the cop helped me to my feet gently and the intruder was placed in cuffs as the room spun violently from under me.

It turns out that he was wanted to several counts of breaking and entering along with murder; well that's something I really needed to know! I was brought to the couch where I sat down and pressure was applied to my wounded head, an E.M.T. was waiting for me and I was looked after. It turns out that it was only a surface wound that was caused when the man hit me with the butt of his gun, which he stupidly dropped when I began to struggle.

My cell phone was returned to me and my father was called immediately as the cops began to speak with Zaven and Arie about the situation and what had happened, leaving me to gain my strength and my mind, which was obviously else where. My friends gave their statements while I sat there, my hands and legs shaking fiercely as I began to think. Had I not gone down to check up on the noise the man would have shot us all, we'd be all dead right now, murdered in cold blood and no one would have even known until our bodies were found by my father the next day when he came to pick me up. Had I not struggled against the man, causing him to drop his gun, I would be dead right now, a bullet between the eyes and that was it, lights out, good night nurse, goodbye cruel world! Had I not had my gift, I would have been chocked to death before the cops ever arrived. Too many what ifs and could have been for my liking, and the more time I was given to think, the more I began to shake and the more I had to fight not to cry.

My father showed up in what felt like hours, but I was told later on that it was only minutes after receiving the call. I stood up slowly, dropping the cloth that the E.M.T had told me to hold on the back of my head to stop the bleeding and I stood up. It amazed me how no matter how strong someone was, when they saw there father (or mother in some cases) they would break down like babies and begin to cry. I did just that, tears rolling down my cheeks as I began to cry uncontrollably, my body shaking fiercely as he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly, not letting go for the fear of the unknown.

I nuzzled into his chest, hearing his heart beat as I cried, wrapping my arms around him and held on for dear life. I was so scared and at that point all I wanted to do was hear him say the words that would make everything alright again.

"It's okay," he whispered in my ear, but this time the words didn't make the feeling go away, I just began to cry even harder, feeling my father's grip on me tightening as one of his tears fell from his cheek and hit mine, rolling down to mix with my own. He moved his hands, placing one on my back and the other on the back of my hand gently, but pulled it away when he felt my blood run through his fingers.

"I could have been killed," I said as I pulled away, but that didn't last long as my legs continued to shake and he sat me down on the couch just as my legs turned into two pieces of cooked spaghetti and I collapsed into the sofa, resting my head on his shoulder without a second thought, "Oh god, he could have killed me!" I sobbed as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close.

The cop wanted to talk with me, but I refused to talk to anyone at that point; all I wanted to do was go home and cry myself to sleep, but he insisted to the point of making me angry, and I would have told him so had my father not told me that if he wanted a statement from me it would have to wait until morning when I was capable of making full sentences without starting to cry. We then picked ourselves up off of the floor, couch, chairs, and all headed to our respectable cars, the cops in their squad cars and Zaven, Arie, my father and I in our jeep. He dropped Arie off home and then headed home, taking Zaven with us because she didn't want to stay in the house alone—besides, it was either that or the cops would take her to her parents house, and she really wasn't in the mood to talk to them.

I stumbled into the house, my legs and brain not working together anymore as my father helped me and Zaven to the couch where he handed each of us a glass of cold water. I placed my glass on the table as I looked down at my shaking hand and knew that I was about to make a mess with it if I didn't.

Tears were still rolling down my cheeks, as well as Zaven's by now as my father sat down between us, wrapping his arm around my shoulders once again, pulling me close as I rested my head on his shoulder, body still shaking. He turned his attention to Zaven, who was staring blankly out the living room window, tears rolling down her cheeks freely as her hands began to shake. He smiled softly, wrapping the other arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close as well, hugging her tightly.

I had tried to sleep, but it seemed that every time I closed my eyes I saw the man that had tried to kill me that night and I could help but begin to cry, opening my eyes and held onto my father tightly. I noticed several times that I would wake up, still on the couch, my hand gripping my father's shirt and my breathing fast and forced as I looked up at him, who was still wide awake.

I couldn't even imagine what he was thinking, but if it was anything like the thoughts that were running through my head, then I understood why he was still awake. Zaven had fallen asleep and my father had gotten up one time when I woke up and brought her to the other couch and laid her down gently, pulling a blanket up and covered her shaking body, brushing the hair from her eyes gently with a sigh. He then sat back down and hugged me tightly, rubbing my back in small soothing circles until I fell asleep as well.

I woke up a couple of hours later, around ten o'clock that morning, opening my eyes quickly as I broke myself out of a dream of the man once again. I looked around the room, breathing quick and soon noticed that it was my living room and that I was on the couch and not on Zaven's bedroom floor.

I looked over and saw Zaven sleeping on the other couch, and noted that my father had laid me down on the couch as well and had covered me with another blanket. I wasn't hot, yet was sweating, my breathing was quick, yet I wasn't out of breath. I hated the feeling and tried to go back to bed, but found that I couldn't. I was going to sit up until I heard a knock at the door.

At the sound of it my heart jumped into my throat, but I soon calmed down as my father came into the kitchen from down the hall and answered the door.

"You guys didn't waist any time coming here today now did you?" he asked, and I knew right then that it was the cops, here to get there statement from me. I closed my eyes, holding back he urge to groan because it would only tell them that I was awake. They didn't need to know that I was awake, and hopefully they would just go away ad forget the whole thing.

"We hate to bother you so soon, but we must get the statement from your daughter," I remembered that voice, the young one. I kept my eyes closed and hoped that my father would tell them to just go away, that I was sleeping and he didn't want to wake me, but he didn't and came into the living room and placed a hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently.

"Alex," he whispered and I moaned my response, "Come on baby, you have to talk to them."

I pulled my knees to my chest, shaking my head, "No, tell them to go away," I said, rolling over to put my back to him, "I don't want to talk about it."

I heard him sigh, and suddenly felt guilty about the position I was putting him in. I couldn't possibly expect him to tell the cop again to go away, or tell me that I had to talk to them, so I rolled back over. I opened my eyes slowly, mumbling my apologies as I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, then my neck gently.

I was going to get up and go into the kitchen, but the man got up from his seat at the kitchen table and came into the living room, sitting down on the couch, a good two feet away from me and pulled out his little pen and pad.

"What made you go down to the bedroom?" he asked.

"A noise," I replied simply, thinking that it was a stupid question. 'Just for shits and giggles' I thought resentfully.

"Did he attack you or did you jump him first?" he asked. Again with the stupid questions, but I answered it as politely as possible.

"He hit me in the back of the head when I put my back to him to leave the room," I said.

"Tell me what happened from there," he said.

I sighed, not wanting to talk about it, but starting none the less, giving him the condensed version, "We struggled, I called to Zaven to call you guys and he ended up on top of me, trying to strangle me to death," I said simply.

"How did he end up on the other side of the room?" he asked.

This time I stammered clearly and openly, acting confused while I tried to think of an explanation to that question that wouldn't bring up my abilities, "I kicked him off of me when he got distracted, the room is pretty small, it wasn't hard with his attention averted." Well, that wasn't exactly a lie; aw hell, close enough.

"What distracted him?" he asked.

"Hearing you guys come into the house," I replied, leaving my eyes on the floor at my feet, "which took long enough," I added bitterly. My father cleared his throat, signaling that I was pushing it, but I didn't care and continued to stare at the floor, "Are we done?" I demanded, standing to my feet, crossing my arms over my chest as I fought back the tears that were forming in my eyes again.

"Yes, thank you," he said, also getting to his feet. My father tanked him for his patients and showed him to the door, shaking his hand and thanking him for all his help. I glared angrily at the wall ahead of me for a moment, and then returned to the couch, laying down and closed my eyes tightly, fighting back the urge to cry with every being in my body.

"You should eat something, Lex," he said gently and came into the room, sitting down by my feet.

"I'm not hungry," I mumbled, sniffling slightly as I heard my father sigh and pull the blanket back up over my shoulders and brushed my hair back, kissing my cheek gently.

"Alright," he said gently, voice ever so soft, "I'll call Pete and tell him that we won't be in today."

"Why don't you go in dad?" I said, leaving my eyes closed, "I'll be fine here—with the doors and windows locked," I added, feeling him get up and head down the hall.

"No, I'm staying right here with the both of you," he said over his shoulder and headed off.

I sighed softly, suddenly fed up with being the victim and decided that it was time that I mastered this gift and learned how to use it so I could protect myself and the people I cared for. Once I could manage to stand without my knees going weak and I knew that I could eat something and keep it down, I was going to conquer this and I was going to master this ability.