I'm really proud of myself this is a really long chapter, a lot longer than my others, and you get just about all of the main characters points of views. And as promised Neal and Owen are back in the picture! YEAH! Ok, now I have to slave over the keyboard. READ AND REVIEW PLEASE! Thanks for reading, here it goes.
Ch.9 Jack Wyatt Brown
Liz blinked, staring out the window. She gurgled. It was a mixture between a laugh and a heart wrenching sob. She felt her hands sweat and wiped them on the warm sheets. She stared blankly as the rain began to pour heavier against the panes.
She began to laugh. It was nervous and anxious. She hated when this happened. It was a strange habit that she received from her father. Commander Raoul looked at her in surprise and she could see him edging away. He gripped her shoulder, a comforting gesture. When he spoke, his words were dripping with concern. "I'd like to speak with you once you've accepted the news."
She nodded while laughing. Tears were streaming down her face. Her body shook from the nervous laughter and pain thudded in her calf and shoulder. No matter how many times she tried to stop the laughter, she couldn't.
She realized that for the second time in her life she was having a mental breakdown. "Why?" she sobbed. But she knew she was a traitor after all.
She knocked the glass over in a fit of anger. Glass and water went everywhere. But it didn't matter. She had nothing now. All of her friends worked for the TPD and she no longer worked beside them.
As her laughter continued to wrack on she shifted on the bed. She curled up in a ball and feeling so alone and scarred. She ignored the pain as she scrunched her limbs together. It took her a few hours to finally pass out from the irregularity of her breathing. But even in her dreams she was lost.
Kel closed Wyldon's office door gently behind her. She watched Joren and Wolset storm in the opposite direction of Lerant. Just thinking about the man made her blood boil. Dom nudged her elbow and she looked up. He slung his arm across her shoulders. They walked in silence and she could tell it was eating away at him.
"I really shouldn't be telling you this you know, especially without Liz's or Joren's consent, but you need to know. It will clear a few things up."
Kel shifted under his gaze and rubbed her nose, giving her and excuse not to look at his blue orbs. Dom led her in silence to the first class officer dormitories. They stopped at a door and she read the plague while he punched in the numbers. FIRST CLASS OFFICER DOMITAN MASBOLLE. She smiled, his name, like hers, was a mouthful, but it had a nice ring to it.
He pushed open the door and stood in the doorway. Kel's eyes flickered across the room. She could tell that when he'd been called to leave for the Copper Isles he had been on his vacation. Clothes were sprawled across the floor. Dirty dishes remained on the counter and the light in the bathroom was still on.
Dom scratched his head, "How much do you think the bill for that will be?" he asked while pointing at the bathroom.
"I think that should be the least of your worries," she said. Her nose crinkled as the stench of spoiled food reached her nose.
Dom nodded and rummaged in his bag. Kel watched, bemused and slightly taken aback as he pulled out a bottle of Axe. She snorted, "It would be easier if you just bathed, Dom."
He grinned while shaking the can. "Oh, this isn't for me." He walked towards the kitchen and began to spray wildly everywhere.
Kel swayed as the wonderful aroma filled her lungs. She really did love Axe, as much as she hated to admit to it. Dom looked down at the can and back at Kel. He grinned knowingly, "So Kel is attracted to the opposite sex. Wolsie and I were beginning to wander."
Kel gaped at him and her cheeks flushed. "What would make you think that?"
"Why, I have yet to swoop you off your foot, milady, but there's still hope," he laughed.
Kel wasn't laughing and instead was staring at a picture frame on his wall. He frowned and followed her gaze.
Kel blanched. On Dom's wall hung a picture frame. The picture was of a younger Dom, in his teen years, his arms in a headlock around what was a gangly teenaged Neal. She looked back and forth between Dom and the picture. She stared at Dom's nose and then Neal's in the picture. Then it clicked. Neal was the owner of the nose she'd seen before.
"Um…" Dom said confused.
"That boy," she said pointing to the green eyed teenager, "how do you know him?"
Dom walked towards the picture. "You mean Meathead?"
"The boy with the green eyes."
"Yeah, that's Meathead. Well, Neal really."
"How do you know him?"
"Neal's my cousin, my mom's brother's eldest son. He's only a year younger than me. That picture was when I was sixteen, him fifteen."
"You're kidding right?" Kel blinked, still looking between the picture and Dom.
"Nooo…why? Why do you ask?"
"Meathead as you call him," she laughed, "he's my best friend. I'd recognize him anywhere."
Dom started choking on his spit. He bent over and began laughing. "You've got to be kidding me. You're the girl he always was ranting about. He practically thinks you're a goddess." He laughed and then looked at the picture sadly, "I haven't seen him for over three years."
Meanwhile a certain Meathead sat before Commander Wyldon, fiddling with his wallet. He could hear the cushions of Owen's seat groan, for the man, boy really at heart, was jumping in joy with excitement.
Wyldon looked at the two men in front of him, one tall and lean, the other short and stocky. One unbearably excited the other a dramatic sarcastic Fein. He smiled; he couldn't wait to get rid of them. They'd been driving him crazy, asking for any kind of mission. They were bored out of their minds without Kel to boss them around.
Wyldon cleared his throat and Neal looked up, still fiddling with his wallet. This only made Owen worse; however, he nearly fell from his seat with pent up energy. The commander ignored this and held his hands in front of him. "Officers Queenscove, Jesslaw."
"Sir," the officers said together while saluting.
"I have a miss…" the commander began.
"OH! HOW JOLLY!" exclaimed Owen.
Neal looked over at Owen through the corner of his eyes. Owen looked a little too excited in his opinion. Neal grabbed the arms of his chair and hopped over to the other end of the desk, wanting to put some space between himself and his ecstatic partner.
Wyldon unlaced his fingers and rubbed his temple. "I'm putting you on a missing person's case."
Owen stopped bouncing and slumped, "Sir? I think we deserve better than that, I mean we are first class officers." His grey eyes wide and lower lip in a pout as he stopped his continuous bouncing.
Wyldon growled, causing Neal to now scoot his chair backwards. "Officers this is and important case. The woman you're looking for was in Scanra, she is one of our officers…" he paused, "...was one of our officers."
Neal leaned forward head propped on his hands. "Sir?" He found Command Wyldon's change of tense intriguing.
"She was on a classified mission. She abandoned her post. Her chips been removed and we need to find her. Be it dead or alive."
"You think she's dead?" Neal asked, brow raised.
"How else would her chip be removed or broken?"
Neal shifted, "You think she's a traitor? You think she joined Maggot."
"I know she's a traitor, but I don't know of her allegiance."
Neal nodded, "Do you have a description?"
"Of course," Wyldon grunted. He typed in the woman's name and tapped enter. He turned the monitor of his Dell around to face the officers.
Neal scooted forward to get a better look. There was a photo of a young woman, wearing the navy blue uniform with the sergeant patch on her shoulder. She looked to be slightly younger than himself. In the photo she wore her auburn tresses down, the layers framing her thin freckled face. She had a stubborn chin and amber eyes that reflected the red from her hair. From what Neal could see of the woman's figure in the photo, she was thin and lean. She was smiling he knew by the way her eyes were squinting she had been laughing when the picture was taken. Her teeth were straight and shone white against her pale freckled complexion.
Neal smiled; she looked like she was easy to get along with. And she looked as though she'd never betray a soul and was loyal. A mystery, he thought, just like all women.
His emerald eyes moved to the text beside the picture. Her name was apparently Elizabeth Anne Peterson. And he was right in that they were close in age. The woman was twenty-two and she would gain another year on December 21st, which would be in a little more than two months. She wall tall for a woman and he felt himself rereading her height over and over again. She was taller than Kel! Even if it was only an inch, it was still a great feat. This woman was five foot ten and Kel five foot nine. He still had some inches over this woman being six foot four. She was a sergeant and first class officer and had graduated before him since he joined the academy late. According to the records she no longer worked for them. His eyes scanned the last bit of information. It was her skills; she was a sharpshooter and quick on her feet. She'd obviously be able to make quick decisions and make quick actions. It seemed she was made for a chase, her being the predator of course. She was in for a shock for now she was his prey.
Lerant slammed his dorm room after lugging a depressed Sarge through the door. Sarge would only be with him as Lerant had always been the one to dog sit.
He threw off his sweat and mud soaked jacket and shirt. He rolled up his jeans and slumped to the floor against he wall. The force of his body causing a picture to slide next to him. He looked over and cringed. It was Liz, holding Sarge, a four week old pup then, in the air and kissing Sarge's wet nose. Lerant had his arm around her on one side and Wolset on the other. He winced again as memories flooded him. The man that had taken that picture had given Liz that dog. That was the man that his best friend had loved dearly and had given her heart to. It was a man that Lerant had thought of as a brother and was the reason he tried to live life to the fullest. Seeing as the man was dead and had died at a young age.
Joren stormed across his dorm hall. How could he? How could he take advantage of his best friend like that? How could one kiss, cause a girl to lose everything? Joren's fists clenched just thinking about Lerant kissing Liz. Liz, who had been there for both of them during the academy, during the Copper Isles, and who should be there now. Why couldn't Lerant ignore his pants and think of the mission?
He growled. Even if he didn't talk much to anyone but Wolset and even if he and Liz didn't get along anymore, he still respected her. He still thought of her as a sister even if their bond was broken and would never be able to be fixed to the way it once was. How could that man…wait, Joren thought, he is no man. No man would do what they'd done, especially when they had known and been best friends with the man that still held tightly to Liz's heart, even in death. He slammed his fist into the wall.
His anger was coming back. He'd been so careful and when no one was around Liz would come and make him feel calm, then she'd leave. She's gone! He thought and slammed his already bleeding hand into the wall again.
He screamed in anger and frustration at the mess he was making. And now, he thought, he'd never see her again even if she was alive. She was lost, missing. And if they ever did find her, it didn't matter because she was fired.
He punched the wall again. He'd lost her that night, as he had lost everyone because no one was the same. And no one ever would be. Because of that night he was angry all the time and isolated himself from the world.
Because of that night, Liz would cry from a male touch that was beyond a hug. She would run away from any relationships and she tried to have full all the time, because in her opinion, when you're laughing you don't feel pain and you forget. And those first few months, all she ever did was drink, vomit, and pass out.
Lerant. He growled. Lerant became reserved and only talked with Liz. Of course, he thought. They'd become so close and then Lerant had fallen in love with her. But of course she wouldn't she flinched from any male touch.
Wolset. He went from being a clown to being a calm thinker. He gained a conscious from the incident and thought things threw because he didn't' want to lose anyone ever again.
Dom. He slowly faded from them. He still remained friends with the group, but never as close. He didn't want to be close with anyone, afraid of the pain that would erupt in his chest, his heart, when they all would die. He became aware of his own possible death because of that day and realized how afraid he was of the inevitable.
Joren punched the wall again and again, bruising bones and spreading the leaking blood on him and his things. He kicked and he punched angry at everything and everyone. Everyone was to blame, even himself. If they'd only taken their vacation week instead of waiting.
Wolset sat on his couch, heavily. How? He kept asking himself. Why? Didn't Lerant have a brain? Could the man not think? Had he gone insane? This was Liz. LIZ. They were best friends. Everything they did was like brother-sister. Not like lovers. How could he have fallen for the girl when she never flirted or did anything to make the opposite sex take notice of her?
And yet. How could he have been so blind? So stupid. He had seen it. He knew it was coming, and he didn't nothing to stop it. Nothing to warm Lerant of his growing feelings and Liz of Lerant's feelings. He pulled at his hair and gritted his teeth.
If he'd just done something to stop Lerant. Stop Lerant from making excuses to hug Liz, because the man just wanted any touch from her. He should have distracted Lerant from giving he those love filled stares that she'd always miss by seconds.
He jumped as he heard pounding somewhere close. It stopped and he heard a roar. He'd know it anywhere, it was Joren. He moved to get up and then dropped to the ground. No, he thought, he was sick of helping everyone else, when he needed help as well. Let the fool figure out how to control himself on his own.
He leaned his head against the couch and let his eyes droop. Sleep, he thought, was just the beginning to his new mission. He needed to help himself. He needed to finally move on from that night, and so did Joren. As did the others. Maybe, he thought. Maybe Liz losing her job can actually help her move on. Move on.
Liz walked down a stone pathway. She was being followed, she could sense it. Her heart thudded wildly beneath her breast. Sweat formed on her palms and she felt warmth everywhere. Sweat dropped from her brow and trickled down her nose. It was really like a sauna out there, or at least to her.
It was strange though, each time she exhaled a cloud would erupt from he lungs. It looked as though it was cold, and yet her skin continued to burn. She looked around; icicles were dripping from tree branches. Ice formed over the pathway. But with every step she took her feet made the ice melt, and steam emitted in the space between her feet and the pathway.
As she watched the winter wonder land she continued further down the path, curious. Where was she? Where did the path lead to?
She heard a faint voice, calling her. Gently saying, "Liz! It is not your time. Turn back!"
But she ignored the voice. She could do whatever she damn well pleased!
And then, cold ran through her veins. She was no longer burning up, but freezing. She breathed in a lungful, and gagged from the pain the chill brought to her chest.
She felt many hands trying to reach her, grab her, and make her turn back. But they all missed and when they touched her, their arms went right through her, as if they were ghosts.
Fright finally entered her mind and she stopped in her tracks. A hand, a solid hand grabbed her shoulder. She nearly crumbled to the floor from the touch. She recognized it. It was him. But how?
She turned her head and her amber eyes met a pair of grey eyes that she hadn't seen since the day before that night. She inhaled sharply, tiny daggers of frozen air piercing her lungs.
"Now is not your time, Elizabeth. You must turn back."
She nodded, tears falling freely from her freezing eyes. He grabbed her hand, and she felt warmth spread through her body at his touch. "It' time to go back, this is not your home Elizabeth. Not yet."
"But I have no home," she breathed.
He shook his head, light brown locks falling into his grey eyes, "Everywhere is home to you, Elizabeth. You always have and always will take what you can get and make it your own. Things will fall together. You'll see."
"How?"
He smiled, "You'll see. The pieces will fall into place. Everyone will move on. And you will finally become what you were always supposed to be."
"What is that?"
He grinned and squeezed he hand, "This is just the beginning of your life. You are the Watcher. Eyes like a cat you have. Movements swift and quick, even without thought. You will watch and help the pieces come together. You will aid the Protector, for in the end you are the Watcher of the Protector and the world. And, I am, as I always promised, I am the protector, the Guardian of you. The Watcher. And soon you will be healed. But it is a different sort of healing, Watcher. You will finally meet your Healer, your companion. And he will help you guide the pieces to their places. And the two of you will guide the Protector together. You will know when you meet him that he's your companion. And you will know who the Protector is when you meet her again."
"Wait," she interrupted his prophesizing. "I know the Protector."
"You always have and always will. For each of the times you've died and been reborn again. And now you both are in your true forms. Remember who you are Watcher, for you will be tested in your aid and guidance of the Protector. Do not forget that you always had it, if just wasn't the time. The pieces will start to fit, once you've met him. Goodbye Watcher, till next time," the man, her guardian said and kissed her gently on the lips, finally giving her closer and finality from her lover.
And the next time she blinked she was back in the Infirmary room of Fort Giantkiller. Healers stood around her and gaped down at her as she sat upright from the bed. They were just about to pronounce her dead. Her heart had stopped; her chest stopped moving up and down for she stopped breathing. She had been burning up and then she was freezing, icicles starting to form on her lifeless body.
Nurse Roberts, the old woman who'd been tending her wounds smiled. For as she looked into her charge's eyes she no longer saw anger, sadness, and loneliness. For the first time she saw peace behind the amber eyes. The woman would be alright.
Liz closed her eyes. She no longer felt lonely, sad, or hatred for everything. She felt happy and wished everyone could feel this way. She hadn't felt this way for three years. She blinked and smiled. She no longer felt love for her deceased lover. She felt peace with him. She looked up and grinned wider, ignoring her chapped lips breaking. He was, as he had promised, her guardian.
And now she was the Watcher. It didn't feel strange at all. It felt right. And she suddenly knew that she had been in death. And it didn't scare her one bit.
She felt free, free to be happy. Free to enjoy life. Free to love once again. She felt like herself once again. She felt like herself for the first time in years.
It didn't matter now, that she was jobless and miles from her friends. Because in the end, she was the Watcher. All that mattered was finding the Healer, whoever he was. and then aiding the Protector. She smiled again. She wasn't' jobless, she was after all the Watcher.
Flashback
Liz smiled as Joren read the newspaper across from her. Sarge was on her lap, yipping happily at passerby. Dom and Jack were at the international Office, working on paperwork. Wolset and Lerant were at HQ, making briefing reports for the mafia member they'd caught.
Joren looked up as Sarge yapped at the little boy and his mother that passed by on the sidewalk. Sarge wanted all the attention he could get. "Attention hog," he snorted while scratching the pup behind the ears.
Liz hugged Sarge tightly, "He's just a pup."
"Excuses, excuses. So when I have to apologize to people for your temper, I should just say 'she's just insane, show's over'."
Liz ripped the newspaper in half, wanting to enrage her best friend. "Nooo…you should apologize to them for angering me."
"But everything I d makes you angry."
"Then don't do anything."
Joren stood rigid, unblinking and fighting a grin down. Liz held up Sarge to his face, wanting him to crack. The pup licked Joren's face, tail wagging. Liz sniggered as Sarge slobbered on her partner and best friend.
Eventually, Joren pulled away. Face glistening from the dog saliva. He wrinkled a nose and snatched Sarge from her grasp. "Drug, dog, HA!" he said while stroking Sarge's back, "He can't tell a seat cushion from his kibble."
She grinned, "What can I say, he thought it was you."
"How's that?"
"The car is yours, therefore it smells like you." She said slowly as if she was talking to a toddler.
"Humph," he said and looked away, "I don't smell.
"That's what you think, to him you smell like food. As you do to me."
"Maybe. But at least you don't eat my cushions."
"That would be…different," she said, sniggering at the thought of jumping into Joren's patrol car and eating all of the cushions.
"Actually, I think it'd be rather, disturbing, frightening really," Joren said dryly, trying to get the strange images from his mind.
She nodded and jerked her head. She heard what was distinctly a loud crash followed by an earsplitting explosion. She jumped up, knocking the table and chair over. Joren stood slowly, face set in a stony expression, hiding his surprise.
Liz pressed Sarge to her chest and faced the street. The ground shook and her brow furrowed. There were never earthquakes in Conte. She looked over a Joren, who was now peering down the street. They could hear people sobbing and shrieking some distance from them.
She raised a brow as she saw people running as if the world was over down the street towards them. Joren yelled, above the streets, "DO YOU WANT TO BECOME ROADKILL, OBEY THE LAW, NO JAYWALKING; THE ROADS ARE FOR CARS, THE SIDEWALKS FOR PEDESTRIANS!"
But they ignored him and he clenched his jaw in anger. Liz hefted Sarge more comfortable and took one last look at Joren. He nodded for her to take off. As much as he hated to admit it, she was faster than him and he'd just slow her down.
Liz dodged frantic pedestrians screaming for them to move, but they just ignored her. Her long legs carried her swiftly and she leapt over various items that were rolling towards her. Sarge yipped at the civilians as she past them; he thought this was just a game.
Joren followed, hair gleaming in the light. He followed the mane of flaming red hair; blue eyes only removing themselves from her when he checked to make sure he wasn't about to body slam the villagers.
He reached for his belt and with quick movements he jerked his pistol free. He hid most of it with his hands, to not frighten those around him. He knew he was getting closer to the scene. Smoke was becoming closer to the ground and the civilians were bunched closer.
It was hard keeping track of Liz, for now there were other heads of red. Now his eyes scanned for Sarge's snout as he bobbed up and down. He coughed, the smoke starting to get to him. Nonetheless, he raised his white undershirt above his nose and trekked on.
Liz stopped. She stood still at the sight in front of her. Civilians running from the site jostled past her and shouted for her to move, as it wasn't safe. A lump grew in her throat and she was vaguely aware of Sarge as he was licking her ear, sensing she was upset.
Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. Before her stood the large International Office of Tortall. Glass and debris was everywhere on the ground. And in the middle of the building, the tail of an airplane poked out, smoke billowing everywhere, as was the violent flames.
She took a step closer, hearing glass crunch under her sneakers. Sarge whined, sensing the areas distress and discomfort. Liz closed her eyes and walked forward, heart dropping lower within each step. It was strange, her heart stopped and yet at the same time it beat a mile a minute. Her stomach clenched and unclenched, and she felt ill.
As she took a step forward a hand gripped her shoulder. She shrugged it off; she knew it was Joren by the touch. As she continued to trek forward slowly, eyes closed, he grabbed both shoulders.
She wrestled free and his eyes were stony, "There's nothing you can do," he whispered.
"I can't just stand here," she said exasperated.
"You can and you will," he spoke icily.
She shoved Sarge into his arms and turned tail and ran to the doors. Firemen stood in front of the entrance. She shrieked for them to move, but they wouldn't and told her to calm down.
She saw them carrying a man on a stretcher and flung herself towards it. She gasped at the sight. IT was Dom, with a chuck of wood lodged in his gut. She walked beside the stretcher as the firemen were bringing him to the truck.
"Liz!" he wheezed.
She grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. "What happened?"
"Paperwork! Paperwork he said, helping a commander he said. He never said anything about terrorists though, not at all!" his voice was high and frightened.
"Will he be alright?" she asked the fireman.
HE nodded slowly and she returned her attention to Dom.
"Domitan, you have to tell me, where is he?"
He shook his head violently and groaned at the pain it caused. "You have to tell me, what happened to him? Where is he?"
"He's gone Liz," he spoke guiltily; "it should have been me. IT was really his turn to get lunch, but I was tired of paperwork. Paperwork! So he let me go get lunch for the tow of us. I should be dead Liz, I'm so sorry."
"NO!" she screamed and ran to the entrance. The fireman pushed her away. She shook in fury and rage. Why wouldn't they let her go in? She pivoted on her foot and kneed the man to her right in the groin. He doubled over and she kicked him to the floor. The man to her left roared in outrage and she whacked him in the head. He swung a punch and she dodged, while grabbing his wrist and flinging him on his back.
She slammed into the entrance, just out of the next fireman's grasp. She ran up the stairs, flight after flight, heart racing, and mind only thinking of the man that had her heart in his hands so tightly.
Memories flashed in her amber eyes. Memories of their first kiss, how he'd tenderly pulled her closer and bridged the remaining gap between their bodies, their lips meeting slowly and carefully. She blinked, and another memory evaded her thoughts. Graduation. They were running late, as the car had stopped, no gas left in the tank. They'd had to run all the way from a block outside of their dorm to the church some miles away. She remembered how eventually, he ended up picking her up and slinging her over his shoulders, not wanting to "ruin" her hair, when really he'd wanted an excuse to touch his lover.
She grasped the handle to floor twenty, blindly as tears fell freely. She slammed it open and pulled her dark green v-neck over her face as the smoke clouded her lungs. The right wind of the airplane had knocked over desks, computers, cubicles, and there was af fluttering fire in the corner.
She could hear coughing and strode around the wing slowly, afraid of what she knew was coming. She grimaced as she hopped over various bodies of workers, she recognized, all dead.
She stopped when she saw his almost lifeless grey eyes. A tear fell from the corners as he saw her. She ran blindly through the smoke. Her chin trembled as she stood next to him. The wing emerged in his gut and she knew he was dying.
She moved to touch him, but was afraid of hurting or making him die faster.
"I'm sorry," he whispered while looking dead straight into her lost amber eyes. "I made so many promises, and now I can't keep them."
She shook her head vigorously, almost losing her balance. "It's not your fault. It's not like you knew."
"No, I guess not. But I have to leave you," he moved to gently touch her cheek. He winced as his bloods poured heavily form his abdomen.
"Don't," she said and touched his cheek lightly. "Please, don't leave me."
"I can't control this love," he said and pecked the top of her head.
"But what will I do?
"You will move on," he said firmly.
"Never," she said, shocked he'd wanted her to.
"You must, Elizabeth. Maybe we just weren't meant to be. Maybe, I'm supposed to watch over you, not love you."
"How can you say that?"
"Because it's the way the world is Elizabeth."
"Don't call me that."
He smiled slowly, "It's your name, is it not?"
She shifted and grabbed his now icy hands. "You have to leave Liz, it's not safe," he said.
"NO! I won't ever leave you, if you can't stay, take me with you."
"It's not your time, please don't be difficult." He said and his eyes shifted to the doorway.
"Liz, we have to leave," a voice echoed.
"NEVER!" she said and flung her arms around Jack gently, so as not to hurt him. She heard his footsteps coming closer but ignored him as she sobbed into her dying lover's chest.
"You must leave, love," Jack said and planted a gentle kiss on her frowning lips. "We will meet again. Please move on, I don't want you to be alone. I want you to love. I'll be watching over you, Elizabeth, I'll be your Guardian. I can promise you that," his words were sure and hasty, and he had the tone of a Commander as he spoke.
She fell to her knees as his eyes closed and they never opened again. She felt Joren grab her arms, but she struggled, "Leave me here!" she yelled above the clatter.
"You're making me do this Liz," he said and swung his fist back before she could stop him. He swung hard and hit her jaw. She dropped to the floor, eyes fluttering closed. He gave one last look at his now dead friend, skin becoming pale from the loss of blood and heat. "I'll take care of her Jack, I promise." He turned away from the dead body of Jack Wyatt Brown.
He slid his arms under her knees and head. He brought her close to his chest and kissed her forehead before running to the exit. Taking Liz away from the death she wanted and giving her life.
I know there's probably a lot of spelling mistakes, but once I'm finished with the entire story im going to go back and edit every chapter other than just using spell check. It's not as much of a tearjerker as I had hoped, or at least to me, but when I wrote it I got one tear from myself, and I usually don't cry at anything so you never know. Anyways the sooner you review the more motivated I'll be to update. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! No really, review.
Much love,
redpheonix