This is a shorter chapter but if it makes up for it, it is all in Maxon's POV! It was a bit harder writing in his POV this time because I was also writing out what actually happened. It's a lot easier when I was using the book for a skeleton. Anyways, here's the next chapter!

"We were friends who realized we didn't want to be without each other. We were the other's opposite in many ways but also very similar. I couldn't call our relationship fate, but it did seem bigger than anything I'd known before." - Kiera Cass

The rebel attack seemed to stretch on and on. I felt like if I had to put up with much more of this I would never get the sound of gunshots and explosions out of my head. I felt like I had been under attack for years when really it had only been about half a day.

Yelling at America was hard. Pushing her out the door with Carter was even harder. It meant having to go through the pain of the last attack again. The pain of not knowing where she was or whether or not she was alive. I had nothing to distract myself so I paced in the tiny safe room by myself, listening for any indication that the attack was over. My phone was dead so I had no way of knowing whether or not it was over. Worst of all, I didn't know what time it was. I rubbed my wrist, regretting that I had forgotten my watch on the trip.

I wished I had at least brought a gun with me. If the rebels somehow overthrew our military and came and found me, I would have no way of protecting myself. At least I knew that America would be safe. At the very least I could just trick myself into thinking that she was safe even though there was really no such thing when these attacks happened. Or maybe if I had a gun I could shoot at the door to get myself out. I didn't have much room to pace and if I could just get out of here and find someone to tell me that America was okay.

I didn't understand her reasoning for attacking New Asia and I wasn't about to try to understand. My guards had gotten me on the plane and in the air before any bombs had fallen in the city but I will never forget the sight of the civilians far down below me not knowing the horror that was about to befall them. How did America not think of them? She was always the one of the two of us to think about innocents.

The whole time I was away I just kept looking forward to being reunited with her. I missed her with every atom of my being. I felt her absence in every blood cell, atom, and heartbeat. Instead, I found myself having to clean up the battleground that had become my home. And for as angry as I was at America, I found myself even more scared. That wasn't going to be our last conversation. There was no way. I was not going to say goodbye to her on a bad note.

Before my mind could really unravel, the door clicked open and Aspen poked his head in the door. "All's clear, Maxon," he told me, holding the door open for me. He looked tired and blood spattered his uniform but he was at least alive. He wouldn't have let anything happen to America.

"Thanks. Now, where's America?" I asked, knowing that I had to talk to her before anyone else or I was going to lose my mind. Aspen hesitated, which told me that something was wrong. My mind immediately started to come up with all of the worst scenarios. She had been taken, injured, or worst of all…I stopped the thought before it could finish. "What's happened?" I choked out.

Aspen bowed his head and shuffled his feet nervously. "Your Majesty, it was my fault. I was so sure it was clear so I told the advisers to check the safe room. Stavros immediately went to find her. Carter tried to protect her but it was his first instinct to protect - "

"Marlee, I get it. Just tell me where America is."

"In the infirmary. She was shot. It looks…well, it doesn't look good for her," he told me with sorrow written all over his face. His voice had cracked slightly.

I didn't even completely process his words before I was running down the hallway to the part of the palace I knew all too well. I had to see her. It wouldn't be real until I saw her. Being queen, she was in a private room of the infirmary, one usually reserved for birth or recovery from surgeries.

The first thing I noticed about her was the gray pallor of her face, making her hair look more red than normal. But even that was duller than usual. I felt my heart physically ache at the sight of her hooked up to the machines that were supporting her fragile life. Something in me came apart and I pulled at my hair, spinning around so I wouldn't have to look at her.

She was my wife, my queen, and my best friend. It was my one job in life to protect her. Country be damned, she was my responsibility. I had failed. If I were really her protecter, it would have been me lying in that bed just like I was last time. I should have gone with her. If she died, who would I have? No one. I had no one left in my life. My parents were dead and there was no one else in my family who really knew me. Not to mention her family…they had already lost her father. What would they do if they lost America too? How was I supposed to recover from this? I was nineteen-years-old and was already facing the possibility of being a widowed king. I was too young for this.

The door behind me opened and Kriss walked in, surprising the devil out of me. "Hey," she said softly. "I was in the area and Marlee called and said you could probably use someone right now."

I nodded and let her come to me and wrap her arms around me. It wasn't the same as being held by America. With America I knew everything was going to be okay. I didn't feel any better being held by Kriss. But I was being held. Maybe not by the person who I needed but it was someone. I don't know how long we stood there but finally Kriss told me that America's family was outside.

Kriss left and Mrs. Singer then entered. Seeing her, I almost fell apart. "Mrs. Singer, I am so sorry, this is all my fault. I should have stayed with her and…" she cut me off with a hug. I realized then just how much I missed my mother. She would always know the right thing to say in this situation and now Mrs. Singer was the only thing close to a mom that I had left.

She finally pulled away from me and held my face in both of her hands, forcing me to look at her eyes. Her eyes that were the exact color and shape of America's. "My boy, this is in no way your fault. You'll hate yourself if you keep thinking like that."

"You don't know the things I said to her…" my voice trailed off, not wanting to continue out of shame.

"You two are young and still learning what it's like to be married. If you didn't fight I would be concerned." She looked over at America with heavy eyes. She walked over to America's bed and picked up one of her hands. "She'll be okay," Mrs. Singer said, looking at me.

I frowned. "How do you know?"

"Because she's a fighter. She always has been and she still has fight left in her. You know why we named her America, right? This isn't the end for her." She patted America's knee and left the room, brushing past me.

It was me alone with my wife then. I pulled up a chair to the side of her bed and sat down, holding her left hand. Her rings had been removed during the surgery she had apparently received. They were sitting on the table next to me and I reached over to put them on her hand.

"America, I am so sorry for what I said to you earlier. You're queen and you were making the right decision. I don't know how but you knew what you were doing. I just really need you to explain to me so I can finish whatever you had in mind." I paused, collecting my thoughts. "I don't bribing you or giving you ultimatums, but if you live, I won't call you my dear anymore. I promise."

Dr. Ashlar later came in and talked to me. She had virtually the same injury as I had when I was shot. They removed the bullet and repaired the damage done internally but her blood pressure was too low. She had lost a lot of blood. She had a fifty-fifty chance of surviving, he told me. I never did care for numbers.

Then Aspen recounted what happened with Marlee and Carter huddled together in despair for their friend. The rebels had run into the tunnel Carter took the girls down. They were able to get into one of the smaller safe rooms. They were in there for twenty minutes before Aspen finally gave the okay to let everyone out. As soon as the door opened, Stavros was there with a gun, waiting for them. Carter disarmed him but not before he was able to land a shot right at America who had jumped in front of Marlee to protect her. I shook my head, even then, at her selflessness. Aspen was right behind Stavros and together he and Carter took her to the infirmary. She was immediately taken into surgery and Aspen went to find me.

The blood covering Aspen's uniform was America's. The same blood I had taken countless lashings and a bullet to prevent from spilling.

Hours dragged on until finally America's blood pressure started to rise again. Dr. Ashlar happily reported that she was improving but I was still holding my breath, not wanting to get my hopes up. At the same time, I tried not to think about what my life would be like if America didn't make it through. I'd be left with no wife, no queen, no heirs, no prospects, and ultimately no family.

Two days after the attack, with very little work getting done on my part, America pulled through and opened her eyes. They immediately landed on me and I waited with bated breath to hear her speak. "What are the odds…" she mumbled.

I raised my eyebrows, starting to get concerned. What on earth was she talking about? "Sorry?"

She tried again. "What are the odds…that you and I…would end up with the exact same injury?" she breathed out, her mouth tugging up at the edges.

I laughed then, knowing that she was just being herself and trying to lighten the mood. I leaned forward and kissed her. "I love you," I told her reverently as if I had never told her that before.

She nodded and whispered a quiet "I know" before falling asleep again, a smile still ghosting her lips and here hand still tight in mine.

Dr. Ashlar soon came in to check on America's vitals while she was still sleeping. "She'll probably be out of it for a few days because of how much blood she lost. But, you should know how to take care of her with this injury." He winked at me and I sighed.

"I wasn't exactly the model patient," I refused.

"You were better than some of the guards. All they want to do is get of their cast as fast as possible so they can get back to work." Dr. Ashlar shook his head and wrote something down on his clipboard. As he passed me he clapped my shoulder. "The most important thing is that she'll be okay. She'll need a lot of rest these next couple weeks and will have little mobility in that shoulder but she's alive." I nodded, knowing that her turn-around was pretty miraculous.

The next morning she was able to be moved up to our bedroom and I knew instantly that she w as not going to take any extra pampering. "Why don't I carry you?" I offered, folding up the soft blanket I had brought down for her a few days earlier.

"Because I got shot in the shoulder, not my leg," she snapped. "I can still walk perfectly fine." She reached around her neck to adjust her sling but I moved my hand forward to move it for her. "Really, Maxon, have you gotten any work done these past few days?"

"More than you think." He put a hand on the small of her back and patiently matched her pace as they started the long trek up to the third floor. Halfway up the second staircase, I noticed she started to slow down even more. Without even asking, I put an arm under her knees and around her shoulders and lifted her. She didn't protest.

By the time I laid her down in our bed, she was already asleep. I grabbed one of my books and sat beside her to read while she slept. As I was reading, I noticed her start to twitch in her sleep. Then she whimpered, and it wasn't a pleasant kind of whimper. "America?" I whispered, setting my book to the side and putting a hand on her knee. She didn't even stir at the sound of my voice.

She just kept whimpering. "America, my dear, wake up." I gave her another shake and she still didn't respond. I started to get more urgent, probably hurting her shoulder with how hard I was shaking her but she was clearly having a nightmare. "America, dearest, wake up!"

"No!" she suddenly shouted and bolted upright, nearly bumping her head into mine. She panted for a few seconds and wracked her uninjured hand through her hair. Tears instantly started streaming out of her eyes. "No," she whimpered, curling her knees up to her chest and tucking her head inside.

I put an arm around her shoulders and rubbed her knee with my other arm. "America…America, tell me about it." She shook her head and let out a loud sob. "Please, you're scaring me."

"No," she cried, looking up at me with watery eyes. "It's too hard."

"You don't have to burden this alone. That's what I'm here for, why we're married. We're partners, remember?"

She sniffed and nodded. "Ugh, I hate crying," she moaned, bowing her head again even though I could see she was still shaking. "Where is Stavros, Maxon?" she finally asked.

I had been waiting for her to ask. After all, he shot her. He almost killed her. It was only natural for her to ask about him. And the little work I had gotten done in the last few days was all about what I was going to do with him in the future. "He's in jail right now. I wanted to ask you what you think we should do with him."

"I want him to die. I want him to hurt as much as he hurt me but worse." She shook her head and looked at me again. "I don't like the way I feel about this. Being this angry…wanting to kill him…it's terrifying me."

I rubbed a hand down her cheek, looping my fingers around the back of her neck. She shuddered at the touch and I immediately drew back. "What did you dream about?"

She looked down at the comforter, picking at her toes with her free hand. "Stavros took our kids and…and he-he killed them," she choked out. She just kept shaking her head. "Maxon, I don't want to have kids. That was all I dreamt about while I was asleep in the hospital and now I'm horrified at the thought of bringing our children into this mess."

My heart ached to hear her words. This world had crushed her. I had always thought that she was the strongest of any of the Selected but everyone has their breaking point; she had finally hit hers. To think she didn't want children anymore…she had told me so many times that she wanted a big family. "We can talk about kids another time; for now you just need to get your shoulder healed."

"But the advisers…"

I shook my head, putting a finger to her lips. "Don't worry about the advisers. Our children will be our decision. So what if we don't have an heir for another few years?"

"What if something happens to us though? We need an heir."

"No. Absolutely not. We are not going to bring a child into this world because someone told us to. It's going to be our choice." She had looked away again. I tucked my fingers under her chin so she had to look at me. "We don't have to have kids until you're ready. You're the mother; you are the one who will sacrifice the most of anyone."

She nodded, sniffing again. "Can I have a tissue?"

I laughed and nodded. "I think that can be arranged." I grabbed the tissue box from our bathroom and placed it at her feet. She winced as she adjusted her shoulder.

"I hate sleeping with this thing on."

"Believe me, I know." She blew her nose a couple times and then dabbed her eyes. "Why don't you get some sleep?" I stroked my thumb over the purple shadow under her eyes.

"No, I can't sleep anymore. Will you read to me?" I laughed at her request, this most definitely being a first. "You always read such interesting books. Books I could never dream of reading since I was home schooled."

I sighed and relented, opening my book back to the page I had been on. "He hadn't once ceased looking at Daisy, and I think he revalued everything in his house according to the measure of response it drew from her well-loved eyes. Sometimes, too, he stared around at his possessions in a dazed way, as though in her actual and astounding presence none of it was any longer real. Once he nearly toppled down a flight of stairs." I peeked over at America and saw that her eyes were closed, her breathing even. I smiled to myself and set the book on my bedside table, curling up next to her in bed and letting sleep claim me.

I just thought that quote fit those early stages of Maxon's relationship with America so perfectly. Challenge: name that book! I heard that FanFiction isn't sending out notification emails to a lot of users for updates which is kind of a bummer because I don't get to answer as many of you! Hope they get it fixed!

Guest: I had to have a little action in there! How was this one?

Theoneforever: Glad you liked it! I aim to please!

Someone the World Forgot: (I really like your name, bt-dubs) To answer your first question, yes, I am continuing this. I'm leaving for school next week though so I can't guarantee that i'll be updating much this fall. after this chapter there'll be more one-shots and then i'll probably pick up with another short storyline for a few chapters...that seems to be the pattern forming here. and to answer your second chapter, i really did not want to make Aspen a traitor. Stavros was established as the traitor in this last chapter. I made Aspen a bad guy in As The One and Taking The One and I really was not happy with that decision. Plus i think Kiera Cass made it pretty clear that Aspen still really cares about America and wants her to be happy - even if it's with Maxon. But now Aspen has a girl who I think makes him happy so everyone is happy! I hope that cleared everything up for you. *scratches back of head* sometimes i feel like i babble on here and make no sense.

P.S. 97 reviews? i think you guys can at least get me to 100! we're so close!