A/N: This is so fun to write! Please review, I love to hear your thoughts. Do I have ten more pages in a word document ready to continue this story? Why yes, I do! So I couldn't wait to share the next piece with you!

ASPEN'S POV

I shoved America into the safe room and shut the door, firing at the rebel. I watched him hit the floor, blood spilling from a wound in his neck. Running towards the Great Room, I hurdled over his dying body. This was chaos. I took a breath, blocking out the screaming and other sounds of death. I had to focus, to use my training. Lucy was still out there somewhere. I needed to save the prince and then find her at all costs. I turned the corner and saw a rebel stabbing a young maid. I aimed and watched my bullet pass straight through his temple. I ran to the maid, but it was too late. A pang of relief hit as I realized it wasn't a maid I recognized. Rolling the rebel over, I grabbed his gun from his holster. Where had they managed to find uniforms and guns? A gun in each hand, I continued my sprint down the hall, finally reaching the Great Room.

This is what hell looks like, I thought to myself. Tables and chairs were overturned, blood was streaked across the wall and bodies were sprawled on every possible surface. I looked toward the platform and could see a leg sticking out from under the head table. I took that as a good sign, if they had found Maxon, I thought they would have dragged it somewhere to be paraded about. I hurdled over tables and chairs, shooting towards several rebels as I went. Altogether, the room was quieter than I expected, suggesting the fight was continuing elsewhere in the palace. Suddenly I felt a wrenching agony in my leg, and I stumbled, toppling over some debris. I heard someone running towards me and fired twice in the air. The wind was knocked out of me as the body of my assailant landed on me. I rolled, immediately regretting that decision as a torturous pain overwhelmed me. Blackness danced in front of my eyes, but I shook myself. Finish the mission. I looked towards the stage and saw there were no additional rebels in my path for the moment. I pushed myself onto all fours, the pain almost unbearable. Finding my guns, I crawled toward the platform.

I finally reached the table, collapsing underneath. I laid there for a split second before turning towards Maxon. He was pale and still. I pulled myself onto my elbows.

No, no, no. America will kill me. Over the last few weeks, I had witnessed again and again her dedication to this man; she would never forgive me if he died on my watch. Relief overwhelmed me as I finally heard a small, raspy breath. He was alive for now. But how was I going to get him to safety?

I shook his uninjured shoulder, trying to be as gentle as possible. He didn't move. I shook harder, "Wake up. Damn it, Wake up."

He moaned, music to my ears.

"Maxon, America is safe. Come on, I need your help getting us out of this mess." He moaned again but didn't open his eyes. I looked out from under the table, but I still didn't see anyone, friend or foe. I looked to the back of the platform and I could see the small latch which led to a secret entrance to the room. It was only about ten feet away. Ten feet, seems doable, I thought.

I turned my attention back to Maxon, shaking him harder than before. He opened his eyes, "…'Mer…ica?"

"Your Majesty, America is fine. I need to get you to safety. Please, I need your help." His eyes finally focused on mine and he groaned.

"You," he growled.

I laughed. "Well you aren't my favorite person right now either." He was slipping fast and I grabbed his head. "Look at me, Maxon!" He could hang me later for my informality. His eyes opened again. "If you die, America will kill me, and I am not ready to die today, okay?"

He half-coughed, half-chuckled, and blood trickled out of his mouth.

"Listen to me. Can you hold this gun?" He was able to grasp the gun which I placed in his hand. "Fire at anyone you see. I'm pretty sure all the good guys are long gone by now. Do you understand?" He looked a little more focused and nodded his head.

"If I survive this," he sputtered, "I am going to kill you." He smiled a tiny bit before coughing up more blood.

I laughed. "That's the spirit."'

I pulled him towards me so that we were both sitting, him leaning on my shoulder. "Are you ready?" He nodded and I started to stand.

I was overwhelmed with pain and dropped like a rock, Maxon tumbled to the floor, groaning.

"Shit," I gasped. "I forgot about that for a second." I looked around, but the only thing for me to grab ahold of was one of the wooden chairs laying near the table. I crawled to the chair, picked it up by its back, and smashed it on the floor. The seat shattered, leaving me with a few longer pieces of wood. I grabbed the one which looked the sturdiest and crawled back to Maxon. When I was a foot away, I looked up and saw a rebel pointing a gun at me. He didn't seem to have noticed Maxon, who was lying as still as death. I grimaced, realizing my gun was on the floor next to Maxon, out of my reach. As I was preparing myself to launch myself at the gun, I heard a shot. I looked up and saw the rebel fall, Maxon's gun raised. I closed the distance between us as Maxon started coughing again.

"Thanks," I muttered, pulling him onto my shoulder, using the piece of wood to pull us up.

"Kill. You," Maxon coughed between syllables, "Myself."

I was shocked for a second at his sense of humor. No wonder Mer liked him so much, I had never seen this side of him before.

I dragged us the last few feet to the secret entrance, every millimeter a battle with my wounded leg and Maxon unable to support himself.

Finally, we reached the doorway and I dropped my staff, using both hands to shove Maxon through. He slumped against the wall and I crawled through.