A/N: I'm sorry this took so long! To make up for it, I left the chapter super long. Thank you all so much for all the reviews, favorites, and follows. If you like this story, please let me know! Each review fuels me to write more. And of course, all of the characters/ dialogue belongs to Tahereh! Thanks again to Sweetwaterspice for being the best beta reader ever!

Beea: Thanks! I do plan to continue this story, I feel like I have already rewritten half the series!

lilsis321: Ignite Me is my favorite! I have been waiting to write it for so long. It is all so painful for Warner. I haven't heard an update on the series- just that Tahereh is involved and likes the direction it is going. Which is good, I would rather them not do anything than mess it up! I think the first few seasons would be really hard for me to watch… too much Adam and not enough true Warner. It would be so hard to see "evil" warner from Juliette's eyes!

Shattermefan: I am so glad you brought up the gym scene! I actually have already written an original scene from Warner's POV in the gym J I took your suggestions and added some parts with Adam and Kenji, but originally it was one of the convo's Juliette alludes to where James is asking Warner questions. Awkward questions. So when we get to that point in Ignite Me, I have something ready for you!

Lala-rainbowlight: Yeah, Anderson is an ahole.

ThisShipIsReal: I love to hear from another passionate Shatter Me fan! I pretty much imagine Warner is basically agonized every time he has to see her. He can't even meet her eye most of the time!

Christa: Favorite chapter, yay! It actually might be mine as well. Juliette pretty much broke him in Ch 62. I am going to expand on that when I get to Ignite Me

Sweetwaterspice: Well thanks for catching all of the details I miss! And Anderson ripping Warner's shirt… I feel like he might have been a little more physical, but Juliette never sees bruises or anything, so I suppose threats and embarrassing Warner might have been enough

"24 of the sympathizers are accounted for. Those who managed to escape are being hunted by our best trackers..."

Delalieu is rattling off a long list of updates from my "vacation time" as I drive a tank to the compounds. The battle ended as soon as the bombs began to drop on Omega Point yesterday. I need to find Juliette, and as asking my soldiers about her directly would draw my father's attention, the compounds are my best source of information.

She could be there somewhere. I could find her walking around a corner, like I had all of those weeks ago.

I wouldn't touch her this time. I just need to see her. I need to know she is alive.

Bodies are everywhere, even though soldiers worked almost all through the night. The first mass grave has just been dug as I jump out of the tank.

"Stop," I command, striding over to the hole, as the first shovel of dirt is flung over the bodies.

My hands are shaking. I clench them into fists and take a deep breath before my eyes scan the bodies. Kids. Mothers. Fathers.

She's not here.

"Continue," I order, walking back to Delalieu. I motion he should follow me as I circle the area under the guise of overseeing the progress. I check every face. She isn't here. "My men can handle this without my supervision," I say to him as I walk back to the tank. "I want to see the rebel base."

"Certainly, sir." Delalieu responds. He doesn't ask questions, he wouldn't feel it was his place. Until recently, I hadn't allowed myself to trust my grandfather. He has never acknowledged our relationship or visited his daughter. For many years I hated him. Hated him for not taking care of my mother, for watching my father use me as a pawn in his war, for seeing me as a child, bruised and broken after a night enduring my father's wrath and not doing anything about it.

But as the years passed, I began to understand him. His wholehearted dedication to the Reestablishment was clear. He was a humble soldier, too blindly devoted to question my father, or anyone in authority. And when I won my place as Commander of Sector 45, I saw that dedication transfer to me. He was proud of who I had been forced to become, and would never question my decisions. More than that, in a small way, he cared for me when no one else ever had.

When we reached the crater, fires were still burning.

"Body count?" I say, as I exit the tank.

"No bodies, sir."

I glance at him.

"There is nothing left to bury," he says. He feels none of the anger or regret I do at the sad sight of the former Omega Point. I take a deep breath. It doesn't matter, I had been expecting this devastation. She wouldn't have been here. And I didn't find her body at the battle site.

"Where are the prisoners?"

"Prisoners, sir?"

"From the battle?" Delalieu takes a surprised step back and confusion fills his face. "He must have kept prisoners, right? To question or to execute later?"

He slowly shakes his head. "No, sir. I thought you were informed. There are no survivors of the battle, the Supreme ordered everyone to be executed on sight."

The blood drains from my face.

No. No, that can't be right.

She can't be dead.

Not Juliette.

Panic is rising inside me and I'm breathing too fast. Too heavy.

"I suppose we will be tracking down any who escaped," I say, trying to keep my voice nonchalant.

"No, sir." He looks at me, his confusion clear. "Our army surrounded the battlefield. No one escaped. We have done our duty."

The world tilts and I stumble once before stopping myself from crashing to the ground.

"Sir!" I hear Delalieu say. I hold out my hand to stop him from reaching for me.

She's not dead.

My father did not kill one of the only people I love.

No. It can't be true. SHE IS NOT DEAD! I feel my stomach twist into a solid knot threatening to spill its contents on the snow covered ground.

My pager beeps.

Through the fog in my head, I instinctively reach for the pager, glancing at the coordinates that will tell me where my father wants me to be. I read the numbers.

I read them again.

And take off running for the tank. Delalieu jumps in as I am already pressing the gas. He is saying something to me, but I can't focus enough to respond.

My mother's house.

My father is at my mother's house.

He told me he was planning to punish me.

This cannot be happening. What would he do to her?

I barely manage to keep the tank on the road. My mother could die today.

Juliette could be dead.

I might have lost them both.

My hands are white on the steering wheel. Fury and despair are competing for dominance. I won't hesitate to kill my father this time. And if Juliette… my mother… the possibility of a world without either of them is so painful I can barely process the thought… if I am left alone, I only hope he will take me down with him.

I see the house in the distance. Fifteen soldiers surround the building. He is expecting a fight.

It might take more than 15 men to contain the anger coursing through my veins.

I throw on the break and leap out of the car, not bothering to shut the door. The guards step aside and I burst through into the house.

And stop.

At the familiar dark locks of the back of Juliette's head.

"Come in! Come in." My father says. "Don't be rude, say hello to our guest."

I am in such a state of shock, I cannot think clearly. Juliette. She's here. She's alive. When I left Omega Point, I accepted I would never see her again. And then I thought she was dead.

Seeing her now has set a stick of dynamite off in my chest. I will never have her, but I will do anything to keep her safe. My heart is pounding and the blood has rushed from my face. I feel distinctly ill.

Juliette is alive. In my mother's house. With my father. The scene sends a cold chill through me. It's all too eerily familiar. Images of our last reunion flood my mind. And the narrowly-avoided outcome. My thoughts break apart at the sound of my father's eager welcome.

I step forward and she looks up, drawing my attention to her neck. Blood echoes through my veins as I think of the words I had whispered, followed by the shattering betrayal which had broken me so irrevocably. Maybe I could have continued to pretend I hated her if the neck I had kissed passionately less than a day ago was not now covered in angry purple bruises. Rage fills me as my father's laughter rings through the air.

I can't catch my breath. I don't understand what she is doing here, in the last place I expected to see her. I scan her, searching frantically to ensure she isn't further injured. She's wearing my childhood clothes. I feel my jaw drop as my worlds collide. My mother. Juliette in the house I grew up in. My father.

My father. I clear my face of emotion. My whole body is tense, every cell is on fire, and it takes all of my control to keep myself from shaking and keep my face unreadable. "What is she doing here?" I say, a hitch in my voice revealing my depth of my distress.

"I've had her collected for us," my father replies calmly, in a way which infers I should be grateful.

"For what?" I say, trying to steady my breathing. "You said you didn't want her." Could he actually be considering my suggestion of keeping her as a weapon? A part of me knew it didn't seem possible, but my head felt heavy with the relief of seeing her alive and the anger at what my father had done to her.

"Well," my father says, "That's not entirely true. I could certainly benefit from having her around, but I decided at the last moment that I wasn't interested in her company anymore." He shakes his head. Fury. My mind is racing as I try to decipher his words. I keep my eyes trained solely on Juliette. What is she waiting for? My eyes bore into her, begging her to kill him now. But she is watching my father with more curiosity than fear. "It's just so frustrating to be crippled like this," he says, his laugh cutting into me as painfully as a lash from his whip. "It's just so unbelievably frustrating. But at least I've found a fast and easy way to fix it. To put it all back to normal, as they say. It'll be just like magic."

"What do you mean?" Juliette's first words since my arrival are full of pain. '"Adam,"' I hear echoed again in my mind.

"I'm surprised you even have to ask, my dear. I mean, honestly, did you really think I wouldn't notice my son's brand-new shoulder?" My lips twitch in anger at hearing him refer to me as his son. He is no father. He could care less about me or my wellbeing, and he had left me gasping in pain the last time he touched the shoulder he is so casually discussing. The shoulder which Juliette put a bullet through. Blinding pain sears my chest. I wish she had merely shot me again yesterday, it would have been far less agonizing than what she had done. "Did you think I wouldn't find it strange to see him come home not only unharmed, but entirely healed? No scars, no tenderness, no weakness—as if he'd never been shot at all! It's a miracle," he pauses, staring straight into Juliette's eyes as if delivering a death blow. "A miracle, my son informs me, that was performed by two of your little freaks."

"No." Fear, terror, guilt, anger. Juliette's emotions blindside me, almost causing me to rock back from the blow.

"Oh yes." Out of the corner of my eye, I see my father defer to me conspiratorially, "Isn't that right, son?"

Betrayal. My chest aches at how quickly she assumes I was involved. "No," Juliette mutters to herself before directing her anger towards my father, "Oh, God, what have you done? WHERE ARE THEY?"

"Calm yourself," My father says, the wicked grin still plastered on his face as he tells Juliette he has collected the healer girls. Juliette's emotions are out of control, dwindling close to despair, when she could just as easily transform this anger into action. My mind whirls as I consider how to move closer to her. My body is screaming to throw myself between her and my father. If I could touch her, I could use her power to end this once and for all.

"Did you know about this?" Juliette addresses me for the first time and I freeze. She might as well be holding my heart in her hand and slowly crushing it, I can feel the squeeze of her anger and hatred towards me. "Did you do this? Did you know?"

"No, Juliette. I swear, this wasn't my idea," I say urgently, knowing it is too late to try to hide from my father how much I care for her.

"You are both getting agitated over nothing," My father says. And although his words are calm, there is anticipation and a simmering rage in him which sets my nerves on fire. "We have more important things to focus on right now. More pressing issues to deal with."

Time slows. The derision in his voice hints there is worse to come for me. "Unfinished business." "I have something quite appropriate planned." My father's words ring in my head. I had been so shocked at Juliette's presence, I had forgotten the original terror I felt when I burst through my mother's door. My punishment.

I can't breathe. "What are you talking about?"

"Justice, son." My father doesn't face me, keeping his full attention on Juliette. Her green-blue eyes are full of terror when they meet mine, and I will her to take action. She looks away and makes no motion towards my father. I slowly reach for my gun as discreetly as possible as my father continues. "I'm talking about justice. I like the idea of setting things right. Of putting order back into the world. And I was waiting for you to arrive so I could show you exactly what I mean. This is what I should've done the first time." My father's rage is set to explode when he looks at me and I freeze, my hand touching the hilt of my gun. "Are you listening? Pay close attention now. Are you watching?"

A shot rings out.

I drop to my knees. Agony is coursing through me and I clutch my chest, thinking for a moment I have been shot.

That would have been less painful.

Juliette is on the ground, a red stain blossoming on my childhood shirt. "No," I say disbelieving, half-rising and stumbling towards her. She is choking, blood dribbling from her mouth. Blood. Too much blood. I force myself to look down at the gaping hole in her chest, and I can't believe she isn't already dead. "No, no, no," I mutter. I press my hands to her chest and they are instantly dripping with blood. Her eyes are open but not focused. I lean forward, directly in front of her.

"Look at me, love."

It is too late.

I can't save her.

She's going to die.

"Please, Juliette," I beg, my voice cracking with the weight of my despair. "Stay with me. Please." Her eyes droop shut and my blood turns ice. She's gone. I'm alone, a monster of my father's making. She can't be dead.

A wheezing breath shatters the silence and I exhale a sigh of relief. I focus, and I feel her energy growing dimmer each passing moment.

My father laughs behind me.

"Get out," I whisper hoarsely.

"Pathetic," he sneers.

I turn on him, my hands still wet with Juliette's blood. My reservations are gone. This time, I'm ready to kill him. But we are no longer alone. Half a dozen guards fill my mother's living room. I lunge at him, but two soldiers grab my arms and pull me back. My father is grinning as he limps laboriously towards me and squeezes my jaw.

"Yes, anger. That is what should fuel you." I yank my head from his grasp and he gathers his coat in his arms. "By the time you return to base, I expect this lesson will have sunk in. Love," he says the word distastefully, "is a weakness. You cannot give in to your weaknesses, they will destroy you." His face is again close to mine, and I resist the urge to spit in it.

"Get out," I say again from behind clenched teeth.

He laughs again and I think I might be sick. "Clean this mess up," he orders me, motioning behind me, to where Juliette lay. With his nod of approval, the soldiers release me and I drop next to Juliette. Still breathing. "I will send a tank to retrieve you and my two prisoners in a few hours. I get the feeling I don't want to be in an enclosed space with you until you've come to your senses," he chuckles and walks out the door.

"Juliette," I say, bunching the remains of her shirt against her wound. "Love, please." My head droops and I fight back a sob. I remember how yesterday I had tried to hate her and wish I could take it all back. I wish I could take back my angry words and the pain I caused her to see one more smile on her lips. I don't care if she wants to be with Adam, or if I never see her again. All I want is for her to be alive somewhere. Her pain is too much to bear.

Her breaths are coming slower now and I know this is near the end. I push harder against her wound, not wanting another ounce of her precious blood to spill. I imagine the wound sewing itself shut, the blood flowing back into her body, not even a scar left, like my shoulder…

My shoulder.

I leap up. My father said he would retrieve me and his prisoners in a few hours.

The girls are here.

I race into the kitchen and find two girls, their eyes wide and their mouths gagged. I pull out a knife and they shy away before I break the ropes binding their wrists.

"Come on," I say, already heading to the door.

"We aren't going anywhere with you!" One of them cries, reaching for the other.

"Please!" I can hear the desperation in my tone as I edge closer to the door, not wanting to spend another second with Juliette out of my sight. "Juliette has been shot, you have to save her."

The twins share a look and take a tentative step towards me. I am out the door and kneeling in front of Juliette in an instant. "Just take my arms. I can fix this." I'm rambling, the words tumbling from me as I break apart in front of Juliette. " We can fix her, I know it. Help me."

"We- we can't," one of the girls says.

"You have to!" I shout, as I stand up and face the girls, who are trembling as they hold on to each other. Pain blossoms on my scalp as I pull manically on my hair, trying to take control of myself.

Fear. "But we can't—we can't touch her," a crying voice says. "There's no way for us to help her—"

"I can't believe she's actually dying," the other girl interrupts "I didn't think you were telling the truth—"

"She's not dying!" I say fiercely, my heart clenching at the thought. This is my fault. I should have shot my father when I walked in the door, how had I failed her again? I can't let her die. "She is not going to die! Please, listen, I'm telling you," I beg, my pride long gone, "you can help her. I've been trying to explain to you, all you have to do is touch me and I can take your power. I can be the transfer, I can control it and redirect your Energy—"

"That's not possible," one of them says. Her mistrust of me is rolling off her. "That's not—Castle never said you could do that—he would've told us if you could do that."

"Jesus, please, just listen to me," my voice is husky from holding back tears. Is this how it ends? Do I lose Juliette completely due to all of the things I've done? Because I was such a terrible person I can't get two girls to trust me? I will never forgive myself. "I'm not trying to trick you—"

"You kidnapped us!" they shout in unison.

"That wasn't me! I wasn't the one who kidnapped you—" I brace myself with one hand against the wall, the other clenching my forehead. This is out of control. I didn't even consider that they might not be willing to help Juliette just because I was the one asking.

"How are we supposed to trust you?" one of the healers accuses me. "How do we know you didn't do this to her yourself?"

I did. I did do this to her. I should have protected her. If Kent was asking them to save her, they would have done so already. She is going to die because of every selfish thing I had ever done. "Why don't you care?" My breath is coming in loud rasps. "How can you not care? Why don't you care that she's bleeding to death? I thought you were her friends—"

"Of course we care! But how can we help her now? Where can we take her? Who can we take her to? No one can touch her and she's lost so much blood already. Just look at her."

My breath catches in my throat as I turn to look at Juliette. She is so still, her energy barely flickering now.

"Juliette?" I run towards her, my legs cut out from under me as I drop beside her. Her eyelids are fluttering. My hands hold her face and I beg her to stay with me. Beneath her pain, I can sense her acceptance. She's giving up. "Juliette?" My voice cracks as I form her name. I shout, "JULIETTE—"

I can't take it anymore. Failure is not an option. I finally take control of myself, and with speed and grace I didn't know I possessed, I leap over and straddle her gently. Her blood is everywhere and I push up her sleeves to I can touch her without hurting her further. I whisper, "You are going to be okay. We're going to fix this. They're going to help me fix this and you—you're going to be fine." I'm blathering wildly now, on the verge of hyperventilating. "You're going to be perfect. Do you hear me? Juliette, can you hear me?"

She looks up at me, her green-blue eyes suddenly focused on mine and I take a deep breath. I love you. And even if I never have a hope of you feeling the same, I need you to live. You are all the good in me. I need you, Juliette.

"Each one of you, grab my arms," I order in my best commander voice. I'm holding on to her, as if my grip can keep her from leaving this world. "Now! Please! I'm begging you—"

And for some reason they listen.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I plan to pick up in Ignite Me at the nightmare scene!