Posting early! I know right?

So, I received some ideas of what Patch may look like, and I have to say I've chosen my favorite.

Fanfiction won't let me put up the link, but type in "Marlon Texeira- socialite life" You'll know EXACTLY what picture I'm talking about when you see it. It's going to be in black and white, with two guys in it.

I searched through this model's pictures until I found the perfect one. It's Patch and Rixon. He's even wearing a silver chain. Drop the mic, walk away, feeling successful. I have to say, the guy who's Patch is one of the more handsome men I've ever seen in my life. He has other pictures (a naughty model, I think) but I think I prefer him with just the peach fuzz. And the guy who's Rixon, just assume he's leaning down (because Rixon is taller than Patch). His beauty makes me choke on happiness. Literally I squeal when I look. You can thank TheBritWhoDoesn'tDrinkTea for this early chapter, because they showed me who this model was and in my excitement I had to post early to share this with you.

So, the bonus of this early chapter is...well, early chapter! The drawback is, I'm still working on the writing portion of the next chapter :'( I'm sorry, but I had an idea...and then I threw it away. I'm going to test something, and if it doesn't work out, I'll re-write what I had before. Just be patient loves!

Chapter Twenty-Six

1970's

We were moving on. There was nothing left for us here. I had two reasons why I wasn't sad to put New York City behind me.

Ella was dead.

She was only sixteen. She was working at the hospital when the building caught on fire, and she couldn't get out. I liked to think that she was being the hero, helping others escape. It would have been characteristic of her. It still pained me to think of how she must have felt when she knew she was trapped. It was a regret of mine that I wasn't near, that I wasn't able to save her.

She was like a little sister to me, and I'd made sure that her needs were met whenever she had one. I'd let her move into my home (at Rixon's curiosity), and whenever she wanted to go back to her old neighborhood with gifts I took her there. Stunning, charming, a hard worker and still mischievous at sixteen, she had a swagger that even I found hard to match at times. Rixon enjoyed having her around, and it seemed to be a competition of confidence between the two. Things were good; better than they had been for me in a long time.

I remembered speaking to her a day before she died. She'd seemed down for some reason, not herself. To this day I don't understand; it was as if she knew what was going to happen to her.

I'd sat down beside her. "What's wrong, Ella? Did someone bother you today?"

She shook her head. "No…no. Hey Patch—"She paused, at a loss for words.

"Yes?"

"I was thinking about mortality. My own, I mean. With the war going on, and other issues happening, it just….it was what was in my head this morning."

"That's pretty dark."

Ella laughed quietly. "I know. Still. Will you always be my friend? Even when I'm old and wrinkled?" She turned her face. She looked at me with misty eyes, and their depths held an ancient sadness. It unsettled me.

"Of course, Ella. You know that you're my kid sister- someone has to keep you in check."

She didn't laugh at my joke. "Even if I go and get married? Or do something stupid?"

I laughed softly. "The fact that you rank those together let me know I don't have to worry about you. Come on, Ella, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I think it's from being in the hospital all of the time. It makes me feel nervous, you know? Seeing all of those poor people…" She shuddered.

"You know you don't have to work there." I told her. She laughed.

"I know, I know. You could take care of me. I appreciate it, big brother, but I have to earn my own way too. Besides, it makes me feel good to help others."

I nodded, understanding.

"If…If I didn't come back…if I died tomorrow, you'd remember me forever?"

I jumped. "Yes. You're making me nervous with all this fatality. Ella, I will be there the day you get married, to threaten whoever the lucky man is to treat you right. I will be there when you're old and pruny and can't hear me speaking to you anymore without an ear horn. Don't be so fatalistic. You'll turn prematurely gray."

She punched me in the arm, then stood up. She turned her face up, looking into the sky, then turned back to me.

"Thanks for listening. I feel better already." She smiled her trademark smile, and I smiled back.

"You know, I have a solution for this. Don't grow up. Stay young forever." I said, grinning. She laughed.

"If only I were so lucky!"

Why did I say that? I never meant it like that! Ella, I didn't mean it that way!

When I found out about the fire, and Ella's rushing back in to save a child at the risk of her own life, I was genuinely brokenhearted. There were days where I cursed her choice, wondering why she didn't just leave the kid. Then I berated myself, knowing I was demeaning her valiant choice.

Still, I stayed in New York. I told myself it was for Ella. I couldn't move on. I still placed flowers on her grave, spoke to her, unable to move on. I knew there was a Heaven, and I was positively sure she was there, listening.

Then, Robert was sent to Hell, along with the Book of Enoch.

He'd finally attained a Book of Enoch, at the risk of his own honor code. The book was stolen from Heaven, and no fallen was supposed to have it in possession. It'd been sloppily stolen as well, so of course the Archangels knew about it.

He'd called me to his office. When I saw him, he wasn't his normal, self-possessed self. Instead, he was sweating, and the feverish look in his eyes was one of a drug addict who'd finally scored a large amount of the drug he needed. He held the book in his hand; it was white, with mother–of-pearl outline.

"I…I did it, Patch…I did it. Now I can become human…I can finally die and move on to Heaven with my beloved Naobi, and little Ella…" he gasped, smiling.

"Robert…" I cautioned. "How do you know? How did you get it?"

"Does it matter? I've done it! I succeeded!"

The moment he said it, his arm began to turn into black ash. The book fell to the ground. He looked at me with horror.

"I'm…no! It's not time! Don't do this, not now…Patch, do something!" he screamed in anguish.

I was horrified; I knew someone was burning his feather. I knew that if I helped, it would give the Archangels a reason to burn my feather as well. He was damned regardless. In the same note, I couldn't let the Book get away. I jumped forward, reaching for it. Robert saw me reach not for him, but for the book. His eyes widened, and his face showed betrayal before he finally vanished. I looked down, and the book began to turn to ash as well.

"No…no!" I cried. It was too late. They were both gone.

That was enough for me. I'd watched both of the reasons I stayed in New York literally go up in smoke, and I couldn't stand it anymore.

Chauncey and Barnabas, now going by Hank Millar, were leaving New York as well. It was becoming too hard for them to keep up human appearances. Rixon was putting the last of our items into his truck, and we were finally headed to the new place.

"So, what exactly is in Coldwater, Maine?" I asked Rixon dubiously. He'd done the research ahead of me.

"Well, the last dregs of Chauncey's descendants live there, for starters. The Grey family. Lacking in both money and prestige; a real kicker for Chauncey. There's a huge center of Nephilim. The commune is called Delphic, and the fallen live in the catacombs underneath it. It's like New England's center for the immortal. I'm sure we can find a nice place."

"I'm sure that Chauncey is trying to take advantage of the large amount of Nephilim." I said offhandedly. Chauncey was determined to find a way to release himself from his bonds to me. After Ella died, I'd lost the ability to care too much about anything. I wasn't threatened. Every year, we went through Cheshvan, the same way we always did, and that was that.

I nodded. "So why can't we fly there?" While I hated commercial plane rides, I liked to look out of the window and see above the clouds.

"It's pointless. Besides, consider this our latest adventure. We used to do so much together, man. I miss you."

I smirked. "Only you could say that so easily."

"You know that Ella wouldn't want you to be miserable." My face changed.

"Right." When Rixon had everything outside, we got into the car.

"I have to go somewhere else first." I told him. Looking at me warily, but nodding, I started the car and headed for the cemetery.

Nora's POV

My eyes were blurry, and I could hardly see.

Something made a noise soon after Vee left, waking me up. I had a bad feeling about my surroundings, and I tried to push myself up onto my arm.

I couldn't move.

Panicking, I turned my eyes to the right. I saw a shadowy figure standing over me, holding two syringes.

"What…" I murmured. It wasn't Patch. I could tell that whoever it was had placed something into my fluid bag, because I wasn't able to move at all. In fact, I was becoming more exhausted than normal.

Before I passed out again, I felt them lift my arm and stick it with the other syringe. He began to speak, and I only picked up some of his words.

"This…what happens…...don't pay…...owe...stupid, thieving bitch…"

I could practically feel the hate rolling off of him. I was horrified, but as Elliot left the room, I fell unconscious.

Present- Patch's POV

I was speeding towards the hospital, elated. When Nehemiah returned with Nora's terms, I was more than happy to agree. I was so happy that she wanted to see me. He told me of how remorseful she was, and I wanted nothing more but to go wipe the tears from her face.

"Where's the fire, Patch?" Ezra teased.

"Under your ass, can't you smell it Ezra?" I retorted. Nehemiah snickered, and Ezra punched me in the arm. Ezra sat in the passenger seat, and Nehemiah was in the back.

"Touché."

"Snaps jar, anyone? Ezra, you owe him some change." Nehemiah said, laughing.

The mood was light, playful. My friends were happy to see me so hopeful, and fed my elation. I was so ready for the night to end in me holding Nora that I could have burst.

So it shocked me when Nehemiah gasped in panic.

"Stop! Stop the car!" he cried.

"What—"

Before I could react, shots began to ring through the car, tearing into our bodies. I let go of the wheel, and the car swerved off of the road.

But...but they were so close! What's going on with Nora?

Oh, and in case you wondered, a $naps jar is when someone puts change in a jar after you hit them with a zinger (well said comeback). It's a game.

Read and review!