CHAPTER SONG: "Skyfall" by Adele

*Lyrics by Adele Laurie Blue Adkins Blue Adkins and Paul Epworth

Joseph Blake awoke to the piercing shriek of the telephone ringing downstairs, his eyelids forcing themselves open almost against his will. He sat up from his bed in a panic, his vision slightly blurred and he felt a groggy Charlotte stir as she lay against his chest, dressed in a sparking nightgown just barely concealing the lingerie she wore underneath, her tangled chocolate hair around her head.

As the phone continued to chime, Joe carefully adjusted his lover to lie against the pillows without waking her. He quickly checked that she was comfortable where he left her, looking back as he exited the room that she was still asleep.

He buttoned his night tunic up to the final button, not wanting to appear indecent in case Molly or the children were awake. Going down the stairs, he saw the dark blue illumination of the sky outside with the pink streak of dawning sunrise.

The lieutenant rubbed his eyes, trying to rouse himself to focus, a sudden pit of worry forming in his stomach that the shrill telephone call interrupting his sleep was of urgency… Why else would anyone be calling him as the sun was just emerging from the horizon?

Something was wrong… very wrong.

He heard the worried whine of Myrtle as the female canine approached him, sitting by his feet as he made his way to the telephone stand and picked up the receiver before its continued ringing could awaken the entire household of women under his roof.

"Hello… Blake residence." Joe cleared his throat, working to sound alert as he wiped the remaining sleep from his eyes, Myrtle's furred head brushing against his leg.

For the first few seconds, all he heard was static on the other end, reminding him of the feigning quality of the telephones used to send messages in the trenches. Joe listened closely, pressing the receiver closer to his ear so he could hear, holding his breath and the vibrating pump of his heartbeat reverberating throughout his chest.

As he opened his mouth to speak again, he heard a familiar male voice that simultaneously concerned and relieved him.

"Joseph… I'm sorry to call so early, but…" William Schofield's voice waved through Joseph's ears, his normally calm and soft tone shaking and almost too quiet for the older man to hear, like he was on the verge of tears.

The corporal was unable to finish his sentence, and Joe immediately recognized the manner with which his friend was speaking, hearing the exhausted devastation and underlying fear in his pitch. Joe hadn't heard his comrade talk in such a way since…

Since he had told him about Tom's death… almost feeling the cold bloodstained metal of the Blake family rings being placed once again in his palm.

Since Will had returned from France to be at Emmanuelle's bedside as she had laid comatose at death's door, trapped in a "sleeping beauty" spell…

Trying to keep himself from collapsing on his knees as the memories threatened to overwhelm him, he spoke again, urging Will to inform him of what had happened. "Will…say something. Has someone been hurt? Is Emmy…?"

He struggled not to sound angry or accusatory, remembering how he had made Will swear to ensure the safety of the woman soon to be his bride. And a swell of guilt swam through his veins, knowing he had overstepped his bounds as prospective best man at the upcoming wedding.

Who was he to demand a man protect his own fiancée, like he didn't believe William himself was capable of keeping her safe?

Thankfully, before Joe could submerge further into internal shame, Will regained his voice, the younger soldier's tone slightly louder above the interfering static. "Emmy… she hasn't been harmed but… something horrible has happened."

"What? Tell me, now." Joe urged him to continue as Will cleared his throat, sounding like he was holding back a sob. "William, please… for God's sake, speak!"

"James was here yesterday after you left…" Will took a pained gulp as he paused in the midst of explaining what had taken place. "And… he didn't touch Emmy… but he insulted and verbally threatened her… and I forced him away from the house. And last night while we were asleep… he killed Bucky."

Joe's knees buckled as he struggled to remain standing upright, an involuntary urge to wretch crawling up his throat as he forced the bile back down, gasping for breath as his hand grasping the receiver trembled and his other hand kept him balanced against the telephone stand.

The lieutenant was wide awake right then, any trace of fatigue vanished from his body. He tried to keep his voice steady and at a quiet level, hearing the multiple creaking of footsteps through the ceiling from upstairs. "How…how did it happen?"

"Emmy… I woke to the sound of her screaming… and she was out in the backyard. I went to see if she was hurt… and she had seen Bucky's body in a pool of his own blood. The bastard had used my chopping axe to kill him." Will's voice then dropped an octave, deep in vocal rage and vengeance and Joe felt a freezing chill shiver down his spine.

He hadn't recalled hearing the soft-spoken corporal so infuriated before…

"Have you buried him yet?" Joe asked the first thing that came next to his mind, just barely processing the notion of an innocent puppy less than a year old being slaughtered. One out of a brood of puppies he had helped Myrtle with in her difficult labor during their birth.

"No… not yet. Emmy fainted after I came outside and saw Bucky… and I just carried her back to the house. I couldn't let her see him again… like that." Will's pitch of voice had returned again to one of intense worry aimed at their beloved girl and Joe's heart split in two.

How was he going to tell Molly and two innocent little girls their dog was dead, killed in cold blood by their deranged and obsessive husband and father?

And Emmy… his dearest one had not only been endangered by this man when he hadn't known her from Eve, but she had seen the horrific sight of a maimed animal who had wanted to protect his family.

And for all he knew, Emmy was the next obstacle James Satterthwaite was aiming to destroy in reclaiming Molly and Cici and Elle.

"I'll be there in a moment. Both of you stay close, and you see to Emmy's welfare." Joe ordered before Will could say anything else in argument.

He didn't hear or chose not to hear Will's response, his shaking hand placing the receiver back in the cradle.

The creaking of the stairs shook the walls of the aging house and Joe struggled to turn around, facing whichever woman was coming to see what was causing him to be on the phone so early in the morning. Joe saw the beautiful and vulnerable form of Molly Schofield, her brunette hair braided over one shoulder, her deep eyes questioning him before she could speak.

And behind her was Charlotte, both women locking eyes with him as Joe attempted to form the right words to communicate with them.

"Joe… who was that? What's happened?" Charlotte asked first, her voice soft with her Yorkshire accent accentuating each syllable with a sense of patience combined with her feisty yearning to help this man she had come to know so intimately.

"It was Will, wasn't it?" Molly had a sense right away that she had heard her brother's voice even from afar. "James came to the house again?"

Joe could only nod, barely able to look at either woman, Charlotte comfortingly rubbing Molly's arm. The older Englishwoman clutched her stomach as she knelt over, gasping for breath as she tried to remain standing, her hand reaching out to the nearest wall to keep from collapsing.

"I… I feel unwell… I need some water." Molly gasped out in barely a whisper, turning her head toward Charlotte at her side. "Will you please check on the girls? I don't… want them to… see me like this."

Molly felt like she was falling off a cliff, her consciousness fading as every burden bore down on her, crushing her into pieces. The last thing she heard before she blacked out was James' amused and mocking laugh in her ears.

And to her relief, her body didn't meet the hardwood floor. Instead she was floating…

Joseph, ever the reliable ally, had swooped her up into his arms and she was limp against his shoulder. The ebony haired lieutenant just stood there for several seconds, his lungs gasping for air as he held the Schofield matriarch in his arms, seeing her lovely face so pale.

In the many months of knowing her, he had never seen such a heartbreaking display such crippling vulnerability from her….

He fought back tears of emotion as he carried Molly to the parlor, hearing again the whining of Myrtle at his side as the Labrador followed him closely. Thankfully, Molly began to come around from her momentary swoon as he laid her delicately on the chaise, placing a nearby pillow underneath her head to ensure that she was comfortable.

What would Will think if he saw his adored sister in such a state whilst Joe had been entrusted with her care and protection?

Before he could think of an answer, he heard Molly and was greeted by the relieving sight of her eyes opening, though just barely, as she whispered. "What did my husband do, Joseph?"

.

.

Will placed the receiver on his end back into the telephone cradle, trying to keep his hands from shaking as he turned around to the sound of Emmy groaning in the parlor. Inhaling a painful breath, the worried soldier raced to her side where his semiconscious fiancée laid on the chaise, taking her hand within both of his, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"Emmy… forgive me. I'm so sorry you had to see such a gruesome sight." He blinked back tears of helpless anger as he watched her eyelids flutter open, revealing those green eyes he loved more with every instance of looking into them.

She opened her eyes fully to see Will on his knees next to her, the vision of her beloved's face etched with conflict causing her heart to shatter, her stomach twisting at remembering the reason of why she had fainted in the first place. "Will… I… I went out to feed him before you woke up, and when he didn't come inside… I went out to the yard and… there was Bucky…"

Her recollection of seeing something as disturbing as a murdered dog left her mind frozen, unable to form any more words to describe what she saw. Will eased her to sit up and leaned to the side to hand her a fresh glass of cold water he had poured to help her recover from the shock she had just experienced.

He made sure her fingers kept a firm grip on the glass, watching vigilantly as she lifted it shakily to her lips and drank. Her complexion was returning to her normal flushed pink within her cheeks, something he always kept a note of since she had awoken from the infamous "sleeping beauty" coma.

The engaged Englishman was so worried about the great love of his life shutting her eyes and then never opening them again… toeing the line between deep sleep and eternal death.

He had had too many nightmares about it…

But they had another matter to attend to. That of the tragically deceased canine, his now rotting body laid in the backyard.

"You should not have had to see such a thing, my love. I'm so sorry…" He wrapped his arms around her, holding Emmy close and she clutched onto him with equal fervor, the water glass left dropped onto the carpet from her hands.

"We have to tell Molly and the girls." She half mumbled into his neck as she held onto Will's shoulders.

"I just called Joe and told him about it. He'll tell them what happened, though I wish I'd been able to tell Molly myself. He hung up before I could say anything more." His arms lifted her up from the chaise ever so quickly and he carried her through the parlor toward the stairs. He placed a comforting kiss upon her silken curls. "We need to pack you a bag of clothes, at least a week's worth. Joe is coming here and he's going to take you away. You'll be safer at the Blakes' house than here. I know it's not what you want, darling…"

Will walked up the stairs as he talked, holding her securely in his arms, his hands reveling in the feel of her voluptuous curves through her sleeping gown. As he came to her room and carefully placed her on the bed, he braced himself for her to argue about where she would go.

But instead, she said something he didn't expect. Astounding him, as she did every day…

"You're right, it's not what I want." She reached up and placed her hand upon his cheek, her thumb caressing his bottom lip. "But I understand. I'll do what's needed to keep our family safe, baby… and I'll help you with Bucky. I'm the one who found him; it's only right that I help you bury him."

She smiled sadly at her corporal, hoping he was reassured that they wouldn't have a repeat of their quarreling from a few nights ago. Will breathed a deep sigh of relief and returned Emmy's melancholic expression, leaning down to meet her sweet lips in a supportive kiss, yet again amazed at the strong resolve of this woman to whom he was engaged.

They drew apart after only a second, knowing they needed to make haste and organize for what lay ahead. His velvet voice murmured against her petal lips in a minty breeze. "For better or for worse, my angel."

.

.

Bucky's carcass was carefully wrapped in a sheet by Will, gently bundled while tight in a fashion to where the fabric wouldn't unravel. He didn't want Emmy seeing such a horrendous sight again.

There was a barren patch of dirt near Molly's garden and the soon-to- be married couple grabbed a shovel and dug a grave for the deceased canine. While Will was perfectly capable of doing the deed himself, he knew there was no convincing Emmy to just stand by and watch.

She wanted to further prove her worth in the Schofield family and the perceptive Englishman knew that she was blaming herself for what had happened to the Labrador puppy. That she had angered James further with her confronting him…

Will watched her as she scooped up the dirt from the pile they had made with her shovel, the large garden tool almost the same height as her, throwing more and more onto the wrapped up animal to intern him. He recalled her telling him more about her childhood and teenage years, how she had never been one for outdoor labor while her mother had been the gardener and how she would whine and complain unless she had an incentive to do such a task.

And here she was, helping him bury the family dog, sweat beading her brow and her panted breaths pulsing in his ears.

He didn't even think it was possible, but William Schofield further realized the truth. This woman wouldn't have been doing this if she didn't truly love him… and by further extension, his sister and his precious nieces.

At last, they both finished piling the dirt back into the hole, burying Bucky. They patted down the soil with the shovel blades, making sure the grave was sealed and no woodland creatures would be tempted to dig around the area.

Will leant on the shovel briefly to steady himself, his legs wobbling until he dropped to his knees by the grave's edge. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks and he looked through blurred vision to see Emmy go to his side, kneeling herself beside him. Her arms wound around his neck, her fingers weaving through his mussed hair, her lips pressing soft kisses onto the acne of his cheeks, his freckles, all the blemishes and imperfections she spotted along his face and throat. He nuzzled into her luscious hair, feeling safe in her arms, like she always felt safe within his own…

If he lost her again…

Before his thoughts could darken further, he looked up and saw history repeating itself from nearly a year ago…

There stood Lieutenant Joseph Blake, tragic and dark, trying to keep his emotions of shock and grief under control in front of others. His hand reached out toward the American woman whom they both loved, volunteering again to protect her in Will's stead as danger loomed over them.

He wordlessly urged Emmy to go to Joe and she ran to him, throwing her arms around the man she had declared to be her best friend, someone she loved like the brother she never had herself growing up.

Will surveyed as Joe's arms were around his future bride, lifting her a few inches off the grass as she sobbed silently into his shoulder. He watched the raven haired soldier stroke her tousled hair, his fingers tenderly ruffling her brunette curls, his thunderstorm blue eyes instantly meeting that of Will's irises of ocean mist…

Joe's eyes held the same determination of Tom and the nurture of his dearly departed mother Catherine. Without even speaking, the two men knew nothing else needed to be said beyond their telephone conversation earlier that morning.

Once again, the corporal was placing the safety of his love Emmanuelle Hunterson in the hands of Lt. Blake.

Back in France, such an arrangement had been formed out of duty and chivalry to protect an innocent woman from harm in war-torn territory.

And now, after everything else endured between the three of them, such a selfless voluntary gesture was being done out of brotherly friendship of the army-bound men and fierce, unconditional love for the American woman who had salvaged the remaining ashes of their souls and had given them a reason to keep living.

Tom's soft optimistic voice echoed in his ear as he watched Joe talk to Emmy, unable to hear what they were saying, but watching their body language as the lieutenant asked her again and again if she was alright, allowing her to lead him toward the freshly dug grave to pay his respects.

"Joe can keep her safe, Scho. No doubt about that. But you know damn well Emmy loves your family… And that bastard will pay for what he's done to all of you."

*Where you go, I go. What you see, I see.

I know I'd never be me without the security of your loving arms keeping me from harm.

Put your hand in my hand and we'll stand… let the sky fall…