I stared down at him for a second and then rolled my eyes towards the ceiling. My chest rose and fell with an unsteady breath.

“Yeah,” I said, into the phone. I gripped the phone a little tighter, fearing that my shaking hands might drop it. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“But you promised.” My little sister’s voice came through the speaker, a high pitched whine. Lexi was more than a decade than younger than me. Yet, to her, the separation in age was nothing--we were sisters and that was mattered. The last time I had stopped by home, Lexi’s had been the only arms that wrapped around my waist, the only lips that had whispered ‘I love you’ in my ears. Mom had stood in the kitchen, her arms folded, her expression hard, hers eye telling me that I wasn’t welcome under her roof anymore.

Dinner that night was the most awkward in my life. And when Lexi had invited me to her eighth birthday party, I had tried my best to ignore eye-contact with anyone but the little girl. I had accepted and Lex was thrilled. Mom couldn’t crush her.

That didn’t--however--mean that she was happy about any of it. She was probably scared that I would let down my little sister.

Maybe she had good reason.

“You promised.” Lexi repeated.

Those words. It was a vice was placed around my heart and clamped down on it. “Yeah, I know” I paused, inhaling slowly. “Things got a little complicated over here, though. I don’t know if I’ll be back in time for the party.”

“You said that you were going to come. I set you a spot at the table and everything.”

I looked down, once again, momentarily distracted from Lexi’s words. I felt fingers, warm and clammy, intertwining with mine. Claye squeezed my hand weakly. The corners of his lips twitched as though he was trying to say something. I blinked hard.

This was helpless felt like, huh?

“Jess? I thought you were going to meet all of my friends.”

I pressed the phone hard against my ear. “Yeah, sweetheart, but something came up--”

“It’s for your job?” Lexi’s voice took on a hard edge.

“Yeah, it’s--”

“I hate your job.” I could imagine Lexi’s face: her eyebrows drawn low on her forehead, defiantly, her chin jutting out, lips pulled tight, nose in need of a tissue. I imagined her argrily wiping away a betraying tear and then planting her hand firmly on her hip, the other gripping the phone tightly.

I looked down at Claye and tried not to feel trapped.

“Look, I can’t talk right now, sweetheart.” I tried again.

“Why not?” Her voice took on a sarcastic tone. “ What do you even do all day?”

I gritted my teeth. “I can’t really talk about it, Lex. That’s part of the job. But, sweetie, I have to go right now--”

“Why?” She repeated.

“Something came up. An emergency,”

“More important than me?”

I fought the urge to scream, swallowing down the sound. “No, sweetheart, but someone….” I bit my lip, not sure I could finish that sentence. I squeezed Claye’s hand. “Someone needs my help.”

“Yeah? Who?”

“Someone important.”

“You promised, I thought you kept your promises.”

The words were like physical blows. My heart ached.

Why was it always me in these situations? Maybe I should get a change in occupation.

My hand wandered down to Claye’s forehead. I brushed my fingers over his clammy skin--he had stopped sweating long ago. His skin was hotter than ever, the fever was rising. I brushed my fingers along his cheek and elicited no response from his cloudy eyes. I wasn’t even sure that he could see me.

My gaze wandered to the crimson stain at his abdomen. I looked away quickly, preferring to look up at the stormy gray sky than at the wound that was ruining my life.

Come on, Claye, I thought. You can’t die on me now.

Please, I thought.

Please. You promised.

The sharp irony of the situation was like salt in a wound.

“Sorry,” I whispered. My throat felt parched. “I’m so sorry, Lex,”

I hung up the phone before Lexi could answer. The phone beeped with a note of finality. I let my head fall forward slightly, feeling defeated.

“Claye?” I mumbled.

There was whistle of breath by my ear. Pressure on the hand the hand that held mine. I shifted, moving away enough to see his lips.

He was mouthing something. No sound came out. But I could tell exactly what he was trying to say.

Go.

“Claye?” I sat back up, fear squeezing my chest, strangling me from the inside. “Claye, talk to me.”

His gaze wouldn’t meet mine. Hazel eyes pointed rigidly at the sky. He blinked once, the rest of his body frighteningly still.

“Claye?” I said louder, this time. No response.

It was a second before I noticed that the night had become eerily silent. His ragged breaths no longer filled the air.

My heart seized. Sweat coated my palm. I clenched his hand in mine, trying to feel something--anything.

Pulse. I thought. Pulse. There should be a pulse.

My fingers felt thick and clumsy as I turned over his wrist and laid my fingers across it. I froze, my breath caught up in my chest. Every muscle in my body felt tense and weak and shaky all at once.

One. Two. Three. Four.

The seconds passed like millenia.

….Eight. Nine. Ten.

Nothing.

Nothing.

“Claye?”

There was no answer. There was nothing.

Tears wouldn’t come. I felt empty. I couldn’t bring myself to look in his eyes again.

Trembling hands grasped my phone. I dialed Lexi’s number. The ringtone sounded haunting in the empty air.

“Hello?” Lexi said. “Change your mind, did you?”

I shut my eyes and felt very much like breaking.

“Y-yeah,” I whispered.

“You’re coming?”

“I think I can make it,”

Tears came just then, streaming down my face, silently.

“Really?”

“Yeah, plans got canceled.”

I stared down at him for a second and then rolled my eyes towards the ceiling.

“Yeah,” I said, into the phone. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“But you promised.” My little sister’s voice came through the speaker, a high pitched whine.

“Yeah, I know. Things got a little complicated over here, though. I don’t know if I’ll be back in time for the party.”

“You said that you were going to come. You promised.”

I groaned, letting the noise whistle through my nose. “Yeah, sweetheart, but something came up--”

“It’s for your job?”

“Yeah, it’s--”

“I hate your job.” I could imagine Lexi’s face: her eyebrows drawn low on her forehead, defiantly, her chin jutting out, lips pulled tight, nose in need of a tissue. I imagined her arngrily wiping away a betraying tear and then planting her hand firmly on her hip, the other gripping the phone tightly.

I groaned again. I looked down at Claye and tried not to feel trapped.

“Look, I can’t talk right now, sweetheart.” I tried again.

“Why not?” Her voice took on a sarcastic tone. “Your job again? What do you even do all day?”

I grimaced. “Sorry, I can’t talk right now--”

“Why not?” She repeated.

Hades, she was starting to get on my nerves.

“I, uh, something came up. An emergency,”

“More important than me?”

I fought the urge to scream, swallowing down the sound. “No, sweetheart, but someone needs my help.”

“Yeah? Who?”

“Someone important, alright?”

“Whatever. You promised, I thought you kept your promises.”

I gritted my teeth. My hand wandered down to Claye’s forehead. I brushed my fingers over his clammy skin--he had stopped sweating long ago. His skin was hotter than ever, the fever was rising. I brushed my fingers along his cheek and elicited no response from his cloudy eyes.

Come on, Claye, I thought. You can’t die on me now.

“Sorry,” I snapped, not feeling sorry at all, “I have clingy, feverish assassin on my lap. I’ll call you back when I can convince him that he’s not going to die of a cold.”

It was a lie.

But I wished with all my heart it was true.

I hung up the phone before Lexi could answer.

“Claye?” I whispered, leaning over and speaking into his ear.

No response.

“Claye?”

His gaze wouldn’t meet mine, they pointed, rigidly at the sky.

“Claye?” I said louder, this time. No response.

It was a second before I noticed that the night had become eerily silent. His ragged breaths no longer filled the air.

My heart seized.

″Claye!”

There was no answer. I had expected none.

Tears wouldn’t come. I felt empty. I couldn’t bring myself to look in his eyes again.

Trembling hands grasped my phone. I dialed Lexi’s number. The ringtone sounded haunting in the empty air.

“Hello?” Lexi said. “Change your mind, did you?”

I shut my eyes and felt like breaking.

“Y-yeah,” I whispered.

“You’re coming?”

“I think I can make it,”

Tears came just then, streaming down my face, silently.

“Really?”

“Yeah, plans got canceled.”

It’s the trials.

The long, grueling nights.

The pain.

The agony.

The doubt.

The fear.

Like dead wood.

Fueling.

Burning.

But it’s those same things, I think, that push me to shine brighter.

Because maybe, the wood isn’t bein added to burn.

Maybe it’s being added to fuel.

I stared down at the blood on my hands. My fingers trembled--my whole body did.

This isn’t possible I thought.

This isn’t happening.

I clung to that thought, desperately. Maybe--maybe--if I believed hard enough, he would open his eyes again and then everything would be alright.

My stomach tightened as the events of the last few moments replayed in my mind.

His last words.

His last words.

I shut my eyes and prayed to feel empty inside. If I could feel empty then maybe--maybe--I wouldn’t be able to feel the pain anymore.

I love you--

That’s what he’d said. That’s what he’d said and then the light had went out of his eyes, and a breath escaped his lips and then there was silence.

He told me that and I broke.

I screamed.

I cried.

I cursed.

But never once--once--did I think to say what I should’ve.

Never once did I think to say the words that should’ve left my lips before his last breath left his.

I love you.

Oh, how I should’ve said it back.

That’s my curse, now, I suppose. I wander through life, a mist of grey in the world of brilliant colors. The thoughts always on my mind are these--

The words I’ll never get to say.

A/N: Just a quick note. This is an excerpt from a story that I'm working on right now. It sort of has an Action, almost Sci-Fi feel to it. I do switch POV. Sorry if that bugs you!

Any questions, please comment. Hope you enjoy!

Oliver-

"Ollie? Ollie!"

I froze. Mentally, I groaned.

Then I saw her. My little sister.

Mom was going to kill me.

"Woman!" I said, exasperated. "It's Oliver. Even better: Agent Grayson."

Katie actually laughed. Hands tied behind her back, locked in a dark room--she laughed.

I rolled my eyes heavenward.

"Ollie, hurry up! Get me out of here, will you?"

I offset my jaw as I stalked forward. "Nah, I was just going to wait for Pete to get here."

Katie glared at me. "Hurry up,"

I unsheathed the knife at my side, "Hey, hey," I said, holding up my hands. "I ought to take my time with these things, yes?"

Katie didn't reply to that one. "What happened to the guards?"

"Took 'em out," I reached for her hands and slid the knife under the ropes. I started sawing through them but stopped when I felt Katie's gaze on me. I looked up at her.

"What?"

She didn't answer. Her bottom lip trembled slightly.

"What? What is it, Katie?"

"You didn't....you didn't kill them, did you?" Katie looked into my eyes, a worried expression on her face.

My brow wrinkled. I almost wanted to laugh, but I saw in my little sister's expression that she was really bothered. Instead I shook my head, using my free hand to smooth the golden bangs from her forehead.

"No, sweetheart. Heck, no." I smiled, softly, for her benefit. "I would never."

"Even if they were mean?"

"Nah," I returned my hands to the rope and sliced through the bonds. "I think there are better ways to deal with things then just murdering people," I told her.

Katie gave me a strained half-smile. "What did you do with them, then?"

I laughed a little as I helped her to her feet. "I hit them over the head. Never knew what got 'em," Katie laughed too as I pantomimed the action.

"So now we go back home?"

"Yep," I held out my hand to her and to my surprise, she actually took it and clung to it with both of hers. "Keep your voice down. We'll just go through the back way."

"What if there are more guards?"

I turned, looked back at her and winked. "Then I knock them out, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Katie grinned.

I lead her across the room and to the door. I leaned into the door, put a finger to my lips--a silent reminder to Katie--and listened for movement. Nothing.

"Okay," I whispered. "I go through first. Then once everything's clear you follow me.....or not--" I amended as I say the expression on her face as I said the words. "What's wrong?"

"I don't...." Katie flushed. "I don't want you to leave me,"

I was silent for a minute, not sure what to say. "Oh. Oh, right. Okay." I said, "Well, then....I'll lean through the doorway, and look around and if everything is clear then we'll go through together."

Katie smiled nervously. "Okay--okay, go,"

I eased the door open and stuck my head out. Craning my neck, I looked around the room as best as I could. I couldn't see much.

"Katie, I gotta--"

Katie squeezed my hand tighter as I tried to slip from her grip.

"Don't let go!" She cried. "Ollie, please!"

I shut the door quickly. "Okay, okay. Shh!" I pressed my index finger to my lips. "I just have to make sure it's safe. I don't want anything to happen to you,"

Katie looked up at me. "Don't try to leave me again." She said, seriously.

I gritted my teeth. "Let's go,"

I stepped through the doorway and pulled Katie behind me. I stood in front of her, my arm pulled around my back where she was still gripping it. My gaze roved over the room as I scanned for threats once again. It was filled with things to hide behind--to fire from behind--construction equipment, metal machines and the like. On the back wall, the pathway obscured by machinery, was a garage-style door made of corrugated metal.

Almost immediately, I recognized my mistake.

I dropped to the ground.

"Get down!" I hissed at Katie, who was half-crouched beside me. "Now!"

Tears streaming down her little face, she laid flat on the floor beside me.

Just then, the sound of a gunshot split through the air.

"What was that?" Katie screamed over the sound of gunfire, lifting her head to look at me. I was sure that he shear terror in her eyes was reflected in my own.

This was my fault.

This was my fault.

If something happened....

"Just keep your head down," I said, trying to keep my voice even. I reached out for her hand, and squeezed it.

Katie didn't answer. She stared at me with that awful look in her eyes.

On a scale of one to ten how scared I was, I was hovering in the high thirties.

What was I going to tell Mom?

How was I going to get us out of here?

Shifting slightly, I reached down to the holster on my belt. I unstrapped the hand pistol hanging there. My eyes, though, stayed trained on the space before me. I watched the bullets slicing through the air, the places they hit the ground, listened to the metallic pllliiing as they bounced across the ground. I traced their paths.

Crap--that was a lot of gunmen.

I cocked my pistol.

"What are you doing?" Katie asked, her eyes wide.

I shook my head. "Don't move. Don't move, no matter what." I got to my hands and knees. My hands were shaking, my heart pounding in my ears like it was the first gunfight I had ever been in. I looked back at her. "Close your eyes." I told her. I was not going to let her see me get myself killed. "And if anything happens...."

What?

What would she do if something happened?

I couldn't mess this up.

I couldn't fail.

For Katie.

For my baby sister.

No pressure.

"What?" I couldn't hear my sister whisper the word; I had to read her lips.

"Nothing. Nothing is going to happen."

I smiled. Then I stood up and fired.

I whirled, not waiting to see if I had hit my target.

Chances were, I got them.

I fired off five more shots. There was a strangled cry of pain.

Sorry, I thought. You're sort of trying to kill my little sister.

Another gunshot stuck the floor somewhere to the left. "Katie?" I called out, holding my gun at arm's length and tracing a line across the room, searching for more opponents.

"Yeah. Ollie?"

"Shh. Don't move yet." I said, not turning to look at her.

A second passed.

Another.

A minute.

Silence.

Horrible, awful silence.

I took a step forward.

One step.

Then two.

Gunfire.

I slammed into the ground, hooking my hands over my head.

"Stay down!" I screamed at Katie as gunfire blazed above us.

How many men were there?

I couldn't look back and see her. I prayed she had followed instructions, stayed where she was.

How were we going to get out of here?

How was I going to get Katie out of here?

For a split second I thought about calling the team.

Then I thought better of it. I couldn't bring them into this, couldn't drag this into this mess that I wasn't sure I could get them out of--that I wasn't sure I could get myself out of.

Instead I reached down to my opposite holster and uncased my plasma blaster.

I smiled a little as I cocked.

Dang, that thing was beautiful.

I rolled onto my stomach, my eyes once again trying to trace the bullets paths. Maybe I could target them from here, where they couldn't reach.

Something caught my eye and I smiled. A T-shirt. A flash of black, a split second of color in the grey of the equipment that filled the room.

"Gettin' sloppy," I muttered.

I rolled to the side--not a steamroller roll, quick and powerful, like I meant business: which, I did--and fired off two shots with my right hand: the blaster.

The energy blast light up the room slightly with their bluish glow, reminding me--for a split second--of the night when I had felt power like that running through my own viens.

Why couldn't I do that now and blast the heck out of here?

At least one thing was going right for me just then: the sound of gunshots had ceased.

It was now or never.

"Run!" I hissed at Katie. I pointed towards the garage door.

Eyes wide with fear, she scrambled to her feet and sprinted towards the door. I didn't move. From my current position I could cover her if there happened to be any more hidden gunmen.

Katie nearly slammed into the metal door; she whirled to face me once she reached the door.

"Ollie!" She screamed at me, "Come here! Come with me!"

The scream echoed through the room.

"Be quiet, darn it," I muttered. I nodded rapidly towards her and motioned for her to move aside. I reach over and switched the knob on my blaster to a high setting.

I aimed at the corrugated metal and fired, cutting a clean hole through the door.

Katie jumped back, hesitated a second and then turned back to me. "Come on, Ollie!"

I rolled my eyes.

No subtlety there. Just scream it out, sister.

Slipping my pistol into my holster, I lunged to my feet and sprinted across the room.

Of course, my luck, gunfire once again.

As I ran, I fired and prayed that Katie wouldn't get hit by a stray bullet. As for me....well, I just hoped that the new armor was as good as Adam made it sound.

"Go!"

Katie, finally, for once in her life obeyed. She sprinted out of the building, me following close behind her. The cold air rushed at my face as I raced through the hole I had created in the door.

I whirled around, facing the door and aiming my blaster.

Silence.

The was no more gunfire.

I pulled the trigger a last time, low energy. The blast reverberated through the room, smoke billowing out cracks in the walls and the whole in the door.

I lowered my weapon and reached for my holster. I found that my hands were shaking.

Why were my hands shaking?

Adrenaline, I reminded myself. That's all.

That's all.

I heard a voice, off to my left.

Katie's.

Katie's voice.

Why was she yelling my name?

I tried to focus on her. Everything was blurry. So blurry.

"Oliver!" Katie screamed into my ear. "We have to go. Now!"

Then she was pulling me.

Pulling my arm.

Begging me to follow her.

And then I was running. Each time my feet hit the ground, I felt my body vibrate with the impact.

The world was spinning.

Why was the world spinning?

Then I was on the ground. No memory of how I got there.

Katie was leaning over me, tears spilling down her face.

What was wrong?

"Oliver, get up!"

What was wrong with me?

I was...I was on the ground. Why was I on the ground?

Get up. Get up.

My brain screamed at my body. My body screamed at my brain.

Why was this painful?

"Get up!"

Katie was pulling me again.

And I was pushing.

My vision was blacking out.

But I was pushing.

I was on my feet. Standing. Katie didn't stop pulling.

Where were we going? Why were we running?

I stumbled, my feet tripping over themselves.

Katie was screaming at me again. The noise pounded in my ears--hard. Hard and fast.

She was still yelling.

What was she saying?

My name.

Oliver.

"What's wrong, Ollie?"

We stopped.

I doubled over. Every breath stung. My chest burned.

"What's wrong, Oliver?" Katie asked. She wasn't shouting anymore--maybe she never had been. She came and stood beside me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Are you tired? Are you hurt?"

I inhaled deeply, ignoring the pain.

Things came rushing back to me. The warehouse. Breaking Katie out. The gunfire.

"I'm okay. I'm okay." I gasped, between breaths. I stared down at the asphalt beneath, trying to focus and sharpen the blurry image I saw. "I'm okay,"

I wasn't.

I didn't know what was wrong but the first thought that came to my mind wasn't delightful. I tried not to dwell that thought. Instead I wrapped my arms around my abdomen, just in case, and straightened. I concentrated on keeping my expression pleasant as hot dagger of pain knifed through me.

Katie looked relieved when I gave her a half-hearted smile.

"Do you feel sick?" She asked, trying to understand.

"A little," I said, grasping onto the half-truth like a lifeline. "But I'll be...." I really didn't know.

Lie. My brain said. Lie for Katie's sake.

"I'll be fine," I told her, not moving my arms. "Let's, um, get home, yes?"

Katie nodded. "Please,"

"Yep," I tried to look around, but turning my head made my vision blur. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. "Where--where are we?"

Katie peered at me, a quizzical expression on her face. "We're in North Branford. I told you that....a while ago. Remember?"

I looked at her through half-squinted eyes. The sun was so bright.

"We passed that sign.... You looked at it with me." Fear was creeping into my little sister's voice.

So I lied.

Again.

"Oh, yeah," I said, "Right. Okay."

Katie watched me with a wary expression.

I forced another smile. "Come on, Katie-bug. You want to go home, don't you?"

She stared at me for another half a second, those blue eyes boring into me. Then she nodded, her lips pressed into a tight line. "Yeah, let's go,"

"A taxi?"

"You got any cash?"

Cash.

Right.

"Ah, no,"

Katie giggled a little, "Smooth, Ollie. Just smooth. How exactly are we getting home then?"

"Um, walking?"

Katie scrunched up her face in obvious displeasure. "No."

I almost sighed in relief. I knew my body couldn't handle that. Not right now.

If only I could Katie to look away. Just long enough for me to find out how much blood I had lost.

I knew I had lost a good amount.

I imagined the stain spreading along my shirt. I tried not to look down, to draw attention to the fact that I was still hugging my middle.

It was a bullet wound.

I knew it.

I felt it.

I just didn't know how bad.

Maybe it wasn't fatal.

Maybe I'd be fine.

Maybe.

"Katie-bug?"

Katie, who'd been staring at my face again, searching it, focused back on my words.

"I'm going to call someone to pick us up, okay? We'll be fine."

"Your girlfriend?"

My face flushed. "What? Who?"

Katie raised her eyebrows, and shimmied her shoulders a little, "You know who I'm talking about." She made kissing noises.

I rolled my eyes at her. "I'm calling Gatula."

Katie grimaced. 'Him? Why him?"

"Because he's my trainer. I report to him, always."

"He smells like...." She scrunched up her nose, "--like Old Spice and eggnog and gunpowder."

"How do you even know what gunpowder smells like?"

Katie sniffed at me, dramatically. "You smell like it,"

I craned my neck towards my shoulder and sniffed. "Not true," I insisted.

Katie rolled her eyes expertly and turned away. "Call your girlfriend. Make it snappy,"

I smiled a little and turned away as well. I took that time to unwrap my arms and look down at my abdomen.

I unzipped my combat armor and lifted my shirt underneath.

Well, crap.

Bile rose in my throat.

I dropped the hem of my shirt with shaking hands.

That was not a regular bullet.

Brilliant. Just brilliant.

I zipped my combat armor back up. I rolled over my wrist and tapped the screen of my watch with blood stained fingers. I scrolled down my list of contacts and selected Mr. Gatula. My earpiece buzzed. I stepped away from Katie on unsteady feet.

My breath was coming hard--my heart beat was just as unsteady.

Calm down. Calm down.

You're going to be fine.

Just get Katie home. Then you can take care of yourself.

"Hello? Grayson?"

I tried to answer and my breath caught in my throat.

"Grayson, are you alright?"

"No, Gatula," I managed. "I'm not," My voice cracked a little.

Get a hold of yourself, Oliver. Calm down. It's Katie that needs to be taken care of right now.

"....Grayson? Are you still with me?"

"Yeah--yeah, sorry," I mumbled, my vision was blurring again; I could feel my body trembling.

"What's wrong, son? Where are you? Are you injured?"

Yes, Gatula, yes. I was shot--I was shot and the bullet was still inside of me. I was bleeding out and my vision was fading and my knees were giving out. I was dying and I had to get Katie back home. I had to get Katie back home.

"I'm....I-I'm okay," My hands snaked around my abdomen again. The touch caused another stab of pain.

"You don't sound okay." Gatula said, his voice stern, "What's wrong?"

"I...." My stomach turned; my knees gave way slightly before I could lock them in place.

"Tell me what's going on. Speak up, Oliver!"

"Katie....We--I found her. I found her. We got....out." The edges of my vision went black. I could feel something warm on my hands. Wet. Sticky.

"Are you injured, Grayson? Answer me!"

"I--I have to....I have to get Katie home...."

"Is Katie hurt?"

For a second everything went dark.

"....Grayson? You still with me?" Gatula asked for a second time.

"I...." I blinked hard, willing my vision of clear. "Yeah--yes,"

"Is your sister injured?"

I glanced backwards for half a second, looking at Katie--who was sitting on a bench several paces away, her face turned away from me--and reminding myself why she was here, where we were and that she was alright.

"No. Katie....Katie's fine. She's okay," Relief leaked out of my voice.

I had done it, I realized.

Katie was safe.

We had gotten out alive.

Well, at least one of us.

"Grayson!" Gatula shouted through the earpiece, jolting me out of my thoughts. "Kid, I need you to focus on my voice. You're injured, is that right?"

Of course Gatula knew.

Could he tell by the sound of my voice, the way I kept blacking out whilst speaking with him?

"I--"

"The truth," Gatula snapped, cutting in.

"A....bit," I managed, looking back down at my abdomen again. The blood had spread up and down the armor giving it a shiny, reddish sheen.

"What happened? What got you?"

I tried to answer but suddenly, I couldn't hold myself up any longer.

My adrenaline, I thought through a haze of pain, was wearing off.

My knees buckled. I fell to my hands and knees. Then my stomach was turning and my vision blurred--pain split my middle, it was all I could do to keep a anguished cry from escaping my lips--and then I was staring down at something dark and red, and there was the taste of bile in my mouth.

I heard Gatula's voice in my ear again. "Oliver! Oliver....Kid, you with me? Hey!"

I tried to answer. No words came out, only another load of sick.

Then there was a pair of hands on my shoulder and someone was screaming, crying.

Katie.

I'm fine, Katie.

I'm okay.

Gatula's voice again. "Katie? ....where you are....help...."

Katie was still screaming. Then sobbing.

No, Katie. Katie-bug. Don't cry.

Don't cry.

I felt my body falling forward. Hands caught me, wrapped around my chest.

More pain.

Pain.

Katie's arms were shaking. She was laying me on my side.

I looked up at her face.

Tears were dripping off her chin.

Why was she crying?

"Help is coming," Gatula's voice came, screamed in my ear. "Hang on, Oliver."

But I was tired.

So tired.

Hands slapped my face.

"Ollie! Ollie, look at me!"

Oliver, I thought faintly. It's Oliver.

Something wet. Dripping on my face. Tears.

Katie, no.

I drew my eyes open.

"Ollie!" Katie screamed.

I managed half of a smile. "Katie," My eyelids were heavy....so heavy. "I don't think....I'm going to be able to walk home,"

Katie laughed. How I loved that noise.

She wiped at the tears running down her face. Her nose wrinkled. "Yeah, I'll have to agree with that one," Her hands shifted to my stomach. I felt the pressure and inhaled sharply using all my power not to gasp aloud.

"You're bleeding....a lot," Katie whispered.

I grimaced.

Thanks for the friendly reminder.

"I'll be okay...." I remembered the call with Gatula, how I never got to finish it. "Gatula--I--" I tried to lift my head. Immediately, Katie's face blurred and I felt another bout of vomit preparing itself to see the world. I dropped my head back onto the asphalt, "Nope," I mumbled. "Nope,"

"Help is on the way," Katie watched me, the concern evident in her eyes. "I talked to Mr. Gatula. He's sending someone."

"Okay--okay...." I muttered; my vision was blacking out again.

"What do I do?" Katie shook me, urgently. The movement sent waves of pain through my body.

Not helping, Katie-bug. I thought.

For a second, everything went dark.

Then I was staring up into a face. A different face. A beautiful face. A face that was the one that I most wanted to see. And a face that I most wanted to not see me.

"What the HECK, Ollie?!"

Behind, Nike I heard Katie give a nervous laugh.

"It's Oliver," I whispered, the words rasping in my throat.

Nike rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth. She brushed my hair back from my forehead. "Hold on, hero, okay? I'll--I'll do something.....We're going to get you back home, okay? Alive. Okay?"

Nike was rambling.

Bad sign.

Bad, bad sign.

"Hey, hey! Hold on--look at me," Nike was saying.

I smiled softly as the darkness that loomed in my vision threatened to swallow me.

"Sorry,"

"No, Ollie--No!"

"I'm sorry,"

Screams.

Darkness.

****

D'Shana

I leave him for 15 minutes.

Fifteen minutes.

Fifteen freaking minutes.

Like, what the heck?

I can't even imagine how hard of a job his mother has.

His mother.

I have to get Oliver back to his family.

You didn't have to make my job this hard, Oliver.

I shook his shoulder, gently, trying not to cause him more pain, "Hey! Hey--Hero, stay with me, will you?"

No reaction.

Katie, Oliver's little sister looks up at me. "Are you going to make him better?"

I stared at her for what felt like ages. "Yeah--yeah, I will," I looked back down at my teammate. "You hear that? I just swore it, Ollie,"

I turned back to the little girl. "You want to help me get him to his feet?"

The girl looked down at her brother. "I don't think he's walking anywhere,"

I chuckled softly. "You'd be surprised. Your brother has some guts,"

Katie's eyebrows pulled together. "I would hope so," She said, dryly.

I almost laughed, then I remembered what we were talking about and my stomach dropped. I turned back to Oliver.

"Oliver!" I poked his shoulder gently and yelled in his ear. "Oliver, look at me,"

He wasn't completely out, I knew that from the way his eyes flickered behind his closed eyelids. He could hear me.

"Hey--hero," I whispered. "I need you....I need you to get up," I amended quickly.

Behind me, Katie snickered.

I turned, "Will you--"

"Is that all?"

My words died in my throat.

"Is that all you need me for?"

The voice was hoarse and dry and slurred.

But it was Oliver's.

I looked back at him, not sure whether I wanted to hug him or kill him. That last one wouldn't be very hard. Someone had made my job a lot easier.

"I could kill you right now,"

Oliver's pale face assumed a hurt expression. "But you need me,"

I gritted my teeth and ignored the warm sensation in my cheeks. I didn't answer. Instead I grabbed his arm and yanked on it.

"Ah!--Mmm. Okay," Oliver yelped between gritted teeth. "Ooh," he groaned as he tried to help my pull himself to his feet. "That feels...." Oliver's face lost all color as he stood on his feet. His grip tightened on mine, struggling to stay upright. "....amazing. Just amazing."

"Hey, hey," I said gently. "I got you," I looked at Katie and she ran forward--understanding my look. She latched onto Oliver's other side.

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut for a second and tried to calm his breath. "Sorry guys," He mumbled. "I'm so sorry,"

"You'd better be," I muttered under my breath.

"It's okay, Ollie," Katie chirped.

Oliver laughed, the noise weak and so unlike him. He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Thanks, guys," All of us were silent for a minute. "So, um," Oliver started. "We're not....walking, are we?"

I laughed. Actually laughed. "Nah--No, Gatula is going to pick us up. He wanted me to go ahead to check on you." I wrapped my arm around his shoulder as he wobbled a little in my grip. "And it's a lucky thing that I did. What were you doing again when I found you? Bleeding out?"

"Uh, no." Oliver swallowed and gave me a half smile. "Nah, I was....resting," His gaze had drifted a little. He was starting to look less pale and more green. A drop of sweat pooled on his chin.

Katie threw me a look: she was worried. More worried than before.

"Really? Just resting. Sort of like that time on our first mission?"

"Yeah....I...." His eyelids were drooping.

I slapped his face.

He jerked towards me, eyes blinking rapidly. "Wha--yeah?"

"Talk to me," I ordered. "Now."

" About....?" Oliver was trying. He was trying to hang on. I could tell. And I could tell it wasn't working.

"Our first mission. You saved all of us, didn't you?"

Oliver smiled a little, but the expression looked wrong. Tired. Distracted.

"You helped," Oliver offered.

"But you were the one that finished it off--brought us home."

"Not all of us,"

My heart stopped.

"N-no, no, Oliver. Don't think about that,"

"....Thomas...." Oliver's brow was wrinkled. He wasn't looking at me anymore: he gaze was trained off into the distance.

Katie's head swiveled as she looked back and forth between us.

"No, hey--hey! Oliver, look at me." I squeezed his shoulder harder.

Oliver didn't answer.

It shouldn't have surprised me when his legs gave out. It really shouldn't have. But it did. It surprised all three of us.

Oliver grunted as his legs buckled and his knees slammed into the asphalt. Katie yelped a little.

"Okay--it's okay, it's okay," The words fell from my like a mantra or a prayer. "Gatula's on his way. It's okay. Breathe, Oliver, breathe,"

"Trying," Oliver gasped, his face screwed up in pain.

"Hey let's, um, let's try to stop the bleeding, yes?" I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of that before: my poor actions were probably going to be the death of him. I had been so focused on the fact that he was alive that I didn't think about keeping him alive.

"Sit down,"

Oliver was shaking so badly that I wasn't sure if he could on his own. Once again, his little sister--however scared for her brother's safety--was able to read my thoughts and support his other side as I helped him shift to a sitting position.

Oliver gritted his teeth to prevent himself in crying out as he shifted.

My heart screamed with each of Oliver's labored breaths.

"Katie, I want you to go over to the road. Watch for Gatula," The little girl met my gaze and seemed to understand. She didn't need to see what was underneath Oliver's combat armor.

Katie squeezed Oliver's hand and stood. She turned and was about to walk to the road when Oliver stopped her, reaching out his free hand and calling her name.

"C'ere Katie-bug," Oliver's voice was soft.

Katie faced her brother and knelt beside him.

Oliver held out one arm and motioned her to come closer with a flick of his fingers.

Katie scooted forward and grunted a little in surprise when her older brother pulled her into a gentle, one-armed hug.

He put his chin on the top of her head. "Thanks for saving me, Katie-bug,"

"You're not quite safe yet," Katie's words were muffled by the embrace.

"Yeah? Well, I'm pretty darn close. And I'm sort of a fighter."

"So....you promise not to die on me?"

Oliver laughed but this time the noise sounded more sad than happy, "I promise, bug," He planted a kiss on the top of her head.

Katie pulled away, a feisty expression on her face as she rubbed at the tear tracks streaking her chin. "Well, then, get yourself patched up. And don't pass out again,"

Oliver gave a shaky salute. Then he pointed to his cheek with a finger.

Katie blushed. "Ollie,"

Oliver raised his eyebrows and didn't move his finger.

Katie sighed a little. Then she leaned forward and pecked her older brother on the cheek.

Oliver ruffled her hair as she pulled away--a half embarrassed, half pleased look on her face.

"Now, go," Oliver said, shooing her with a hand.

Katie climbed to her feet and started towards the road.

"Love you, Katie-bug,"

Katie turned, casting a glance back. "Love you too, Ollie,"

What would I do? What would I do if I were to lose?--to lose the thing that means most in the world to me?

What if I were to lose the thing that I would trade the world for--the thing that I trade my every breath for?

What if were to lose you?

Don't you know I lay awake ages past midnight thinking about you? Don't you know that I spend every waking minute seeing your face in my mind's eye?

Don't you know that I look at you and every fiber of my body aches?

Don't you know that I'm teriffied to lose you?

Because what would I do?

What you I do if I were to lose you?

It's the sunrises, watching them side by side.

The late nights watching movies over and over again.

The laughter.

The words--the long, beautiful ones.

The waves washing up the shore, the sunlight shining in my eyes, the wind tugging at my hair.

It's the music, the melody.

It's the vibrant colors.

It's the conversations that are only half-words and the other half is smiles and giggles.

It's the inside jokes.

The hot cocoa when it's still dark outside and the house it still quiet.

The board games sitting cross-legged in the living room.

It's the singing at the top of my lungs when no one's listening.

It's reading late at night with a book-light.

It's the soft fur of puppies and the wet, rough tongue.

It's the peace that I feel before the sunrises.

That's what makes me happy.