Blacklight S2 (R)

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

A concentration camp? What the hell was Elijah thinking? Just because most of the population of D-79 had lost their fucking minds, didn't mean that everyone had. Angelica was the last person to harm anyone, let alone children - she'd devoted her life to generations of them, including Emma. She helped those who needed helping, and now, it was Emma's turn to repay the favour.

Throwing open the carriage door to the drivers compartment, her eyes locking on to the back of Glenn's head as he tapped mindlessly at the monitors, Emma contemplated her next move carefully. How could she threaten someone who wasn't afraid of death? Hell, the man was driving a bomb-carrying train to its doom, there was nothing her feared.

“Glenn,” Emma began, latching her hands onto the old mans shoulders and spinning him around to face her. “Stop this train immediately.”
He blinked at the blatant attempt at authority in her tone. “I can't do that.”
“I defused the bomb, Glenn. It's over. Stop the train.”

Suddenly, the gentle, wrinkled expression the man always wore transformed, anger taking its place. Glenn side-stepped, slapping Emma's hands from him. “It's not over until I say it is! Why can't you see that this is a good thing? You're preventing salvation for us all!”
“You're killing innocent people!” Emma exclaimed, her patience with the old fool well and truly gone now. At first, she'd held some kind pity for him, for his suffering and his pain... All traces of it had been diminished the moment he'd met with Hoffman.

“You know what? I'm done with this shit.” With that, Emma drew out her gun and cocked it to his head, her finger securely pressed against the trigger. “Stop the fucking train, Glenn, or I'll deliver you to salvation myself.”
The frown marring his brows gradually softened. “I have to finish what I started, it's what he wants.”

She opened her mouth, a low beeping sound from the monitor cutting her off, indicating the next stop approaching rapidly. Time was running out.
“Emma...” Elijah warned behind her. Even though he was letting her deal with it, she could sense his growing concerns; the persistent beeping from the monitors only making it worse, setting them both on edge. The closer the train got to the stop, the faster and louder it became.

“I don't want to shoot you,” Emma growled, her hold on the gun tightening. “But you're not leaving me with many choices here. I can not and will not let you harm the children, Glenn.”
A ghostly smile whispered along the mans lips. “He knows about you; all of you. He knows its you trying to stop him...but nothing can stop the Dark Triad; not the authority, or all the rebel forces in the world.”
Emma distinctively heard Elijah murmur faintly behind her. “Dark Triad?”
But she ignored him and the unusual phase, deciding it was something best discussed later on. When they weren't on a run away train.

She braced her feet apart. “Last chance.”
“Oh, no,” Glenn shook his head excitedly, a hysterical laugh threatening its way up his throat. “This is only the beginning - for me, for him and for you.”
Emma sighed. “Not for you, Mr. O'Hare.”

A shot rang out through the compartment, echoing as far back as the final carriage, silencing every last child aboard.

Emma's arm dropped to her side the same second Glenn's body slumped lifelessly to the floor, his blood already pooling around him, flowing freely from the hole in his head.

Jesus Christ, killing an insane, old man? Emma had officially reached a new low.
Sure, taking one life meant saving hundreds of others, but she hadn't wanted his blood on her hands - especially when he'd reminded her so much of her own mother.

“Emergency stop,” She found herself saying aloud, her voice stronger than she felt. “We need to find it before we pass the next station. Unless, of course, you know how to stop it yourself...”
Elijah gave her a long, blatant stare.
“Yea, I figured. I just hope I don't have to get on the roof again - that wasn't an experience I'm in a rush to repeat.”

[/size]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah moved away from the door, already pushing Glenn’s body away from the seat so he could properly sit down. If one were to use common sense, it couldn’t possibly be that far away from the control center. After all, the conductor had to have quick access to it in order to stop the train if need be. A network of buttons and levers shrouded the main board, causing his eyes to widen slightly. They had to be wary of which ones they pressed.

“Shit,” he cursed, glancing down at the controls as he attempted to plan his next movement.
Emma didn’t show as much patience though, striding up to the mother board as she scanned it. “We don’t have all the time in the world,” she hissed impatiently before glancing down at her watch, “matter of fact, we have an estimated sixty seconds until this train reaches that stop.”
“I’d prefer it if I not accidently send the train careening into a pit of darkness to our unlikely death,” Elijah murmured, “it’s important we push the right one.”

In the military he had had very vague training in terms of the controls of a train because the likelihood of his sector ever having to deal with that was incredibly low, but he did remember that it was typically of a dark purple color.

Which would have been useful had there not been three other buttons with the same color on the board.

“Well fifty seconds,” she breathed, “try to get it done before then.”

Hadn’t they said the emergency breaks would be closest to the right hand side of the driver? Or had it been on the left? No, no, it had to be right. They had never mentioned a left button.

“Forty five,” Emma murmured, the station growing increasingly larger in size. What if they passed it? What then? The results couldn’t be dire, other than more time being lost. Unless there was a large piece of the situation he was missing, that they were both missing, and he didn’t want to find out. If Glenn was right about Hoffman knowing about the Rebels, surely he would have constructed a Plan B in case they detonated the bomb. After all, he had practically depended on someone who was mentally insane for Gods sake! What if this was bait? To wipe out their group entirely? He wouldn’t have put it past Hoffman to design something so clever.

There was more to this, more to what they would have to deal with if he didn’t make up his mind.

Elijah let out a tiny breath, fingers hovering above the button on his right hand side. They would be fucked either way; at least taking a guess in which he was 70% sure of the answer would offer more of a fighting chance. So, without thinking about it any further, he pressed down on the switch once they were several feet before the landing, the train screeching to a halt in front of the dilapidated entry way.

His breathing slowed once they were no longer in motion, although the abandoned nature of the station perplexed him. “This is it?” he questioned in surprise, not a soul in sight.
“Guess so,” Emma muttered, already pushing open the carriage door and calling out for Angelica. “We’re here!”
Elijah followed behind her, the old woman already gathering up the children with their coats. “Thank you so much!” she exclaimed happily, tears dotting at her eyes. “I’ll keep them safe, I assure of you. And if you ever need anything, Emma has my contact information.”
“We can’t do that. Hoffman or one of his goons would be able to track the call,” he quickly replied, Emma shakily agreeing.
“Just…find some way, a safe way to keep in touch alright? Hopefully you and the children can return to the city when it’s safe,” she added.
“Fuck the city,” Elijah sighed, “the country’s in turmoil. Just stay low for however long you can and make sure that ‘Safe’ Haven is actually safe.”

They were already stepping off of the train, the air only growing icier as it stung at his open wounds. The train station had four teleportation devices which were surprisingly fully accessible, each marked with a different assortment of letters and numbers to indicate the sections they brought people to.

“I will,” she replied, reaching over to hug Emma as she whispered something in the red head’s ear. Elijah stood back by one of the train’s bogies, picking at a bloodied nail as the women interacted. Finally, Emma returned to him, already climbing onto the train.

He stopped her. “We can’t go back on.”
“Why not?” she inquired in bewilderment.
“Only way is forward and unless you want to figure out what Hoffman may have in store for us ahead, we’ll need to find another way.”
“Hoffman? What? There is no other way!” she exclaimed.

“There is,” Angelica replied softly, causing Elijah to whirl around in surprise. He figured she would have left already but apparently he had been wrong. “But you’ll have to come with us.”
Emma paused for several seconds before sighing, “Guess we have no other choice.”
Elijah pushed open one of the carriage doors. “Lemme just get the idiot we’ll need to interrogate first.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

When Emma stepped into the teleportation chamber along side Elijah and their unconscious friend, she felt a sudden uneasy flurry of nerves in her stomach. Safe Haven was located in D-90, a mere three districts away from her home town. She hadn’t been within ten districts of the place in over thirteen years, and for good reason.
Just thinking about the place made her shudder.

A bright blue light flashed, blinding her for a moment before she found herself looking out at the busy Portal Station located in D-84. Dozens of people were moving from chamber to chamber, flittering about to get to their desired location. Even they had to jump through two other chambers to get to D-90.

It was a quiet district, the station as quiet as the first they’d been in. Angelica and her children were waiting for them near the empty entrance, each of their expressions looking as grim as the others. Tears streaked the small faces of many of them, mostly the younger ones, despite Angelica’s soft attempts to sooth them.

Emma stepped out first, Elijah close behind her.
“What now?” He asked, huffing as he moved the man onto his other shoulder. “I’d love to stand here all day but…”
Angelica strolled out onto the quiet road beyond, her gaze darting from one way to the other. “I’m not quite sure. I thought there would be –“
“You’re not sure?” Elijah echoed in disbelief. “Are you fu –“
“Elijah!” Emma snapped, cutting him off. “Enough with the attitude, okay? She’s trying her best!”
He opened his mouth to reply (some sarcastic come-back, no doubt), when one of the children cut him off. The small boy had wandered off into the neighbouring bushes, his hand tugging up his zipper when he emerged, as the other pointed into the brush. “Angie, in there! Look!”

There, hidden amongst the foliage was another teleportation portal, clear of any signs indicating where it headed. Angelica immediately entered, her shoulders strong with determination.
“I’ll be back.”
“Wait, Angelica, you don’t know where it… goes,” Emma trailed off when the woman’s form vanished.

Small arms wrapped around her thighs the second Angelica disappeared, the face of a sobbing girl looking up at her. “Please don’t leave us.” She whispered, her wide green eyes pleading.

Emma blinked, amazed that she was the subject to a child innocent and needy plea. What was going on with the world? She didn’t interact with children. Point blank.
Despite that, Emma’s face softened as her fingers gently pushed the girl’s fringe from her face. She didn’t have the heart to push her away.
“We won’t leave you, at least until you’re safe.”
“Do you promise?”
She nodded curtly. “I promise.”

Abruptly, the chamber flashed once more, indicating Angelica’s return.
The woman stepped out and ushered the children, a few at a time, into the small space. “This is the place. Come now, sweeties, in you get.”
“Does it lead to Safe Haven?” Emma asked.
She nodded and smiled in reply, ushering another five children in side. “There are people waiting on the other side. It was guarded.”
That was hardly surprising. “And they’re letting us through?”
“I briefly told them our situation. They approved.”
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that.” Elijah drawled.
“Dear gods, boy, cheer up!” Angelica chastised, a frown creasing her brows. “We’re about to go into the safest place in the North. Be thankful.”

Emma placed a hand onto his free shoulder. He was coated in blood, a sight she quickly discovered she didn’t like on him. They needed somewhere safe, too, somewhere with a shower preferably.
“Elijah is thankful, it’s just been… a hard day.”
Another five children flashed out of there as Angelica waved at the girl still locked onto Emma’s legs.
“Annabelle, let go of Emma, please. It’s your turn.”

With one last squeeze, she did as she was told and disappeared along with the remaining kids and Angelica.

Emma stepped in next, her hand outstretched toward Elijah. “Come on, big guy. Our turn.”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah’s body had painfully collided with a tall patch of grass that reeked of honeysuckle and manure, the air damp and heavy with precipitation. Was it raining? He craned his neck to the side, blinking up at the largest blanket of jewels he had ever seen in his life, big, fat blobs of water spilling onto his face and softly washing away the blood. He could have laid there for hours had it not been for Emma’s fingers roping around his bicep.

“You’ll catch a cold,” she muttered, forcing him upwards as he felt all the pain surge to his taut muscles, a wince spreading across his lips.
Angelica and the kids were several yards ahead, their hoods pulled over their heads as they rushed towards a large structure comprised of thick oak and looked as if it could house dozens. The grass seemed to stretch out all around them, dots of houses in the distance as a tiny, close-knit village formulated. A ranch was off to the side, stables in neat rows containing horses that had long since fallen asleep, the cows in a field afar chewing at the dark emerald blades.

Elijah had only seen a farm once in his entire life and never had it been this rustic.

“Hurry on in!” A woman clad in a night gown called from the front door, a square of yellow light washing the darkened village in brightness.
Elijah’s eyebrows knit together, before calling out for Angelica, “Aren’t you taking us to the portal?” They had no time to be screwing around here, in spite of the sense of home it exuded.
The woman on the porch seemed to hear this though, and even though her expressions were hard to read from their distance, the tone in her voice was clearly depictable, “The portal? Ah, Lenny runs that, doesn’t he? Sorry sweetheart, he won’t be back to the Safe Haven until tomorrow night, perhaps the following day’s mornin’. You’ll have to tough it out with us, I suppose.”

Elijah opened his mouth to protest but Emma’s grip on his wrist tightened. “There’s nothing they can do,” she hissed, “we’ll just try and keep in contact with the rest of the group and let them know we’re fine until we actually get back.”
And they shouldn’t be finding a way out themselves? The country was slowly deteriorating, they had just figured out the lead of their lives (aka The Dark Triad) after days of inconclusive results, and had managed to save over twenty children in one night, and now, after they had gotten through all that, they had to sit nice and tight until some idiot came back with the key to the portal? Elijah tried to mask the heavy irritation that spread across his expression, but anger was something he was seldom able to control.

Thankfully it was dark outside and the woman hardly noticed his troubled expression after he had cuffed the thick, burly man to one of the posts on the porch before being shuffling in amongst the midst of other children, entering into a quaint kitchen. The smell of meat infiltrated his nostrils, something baking in the oven. He felt his stomach grumble involuntarily, his meals gradually growing fewer and farer in between.

“After Rick told me he saw y’all comin’, I had to cook something for you and the children. I hope the leg of lamb I have in the oven is enough, but I’ve got Mac N’ Cheese, potatoes, and biscuits on the side.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Angelica replied with a small smile. “I’ll help the kids wash up first; how much time do you have on that oven?”
“Thirty more minutes, darlin’.”
“Perfect!” she exclaimed, glancing at her watch. “The Safe Haven runs on a different time, by the way,” she advised, her attention on the couple standing by the door, “it’s ten to eight here.”
Emma nodded slightly, the blood of others and her own mixed together on her once porcelain skin.
“Oh, you poor things!” the woman exclaimed, thrusting her hands together. Her dark, espresso skin seemed void of any wrinkles, caramel orbs shining under the light. “The nurse won’t be up until the mornin’, neither of you are fatally injured, right? She only takes emergencies after work hours.”
“Guess I’m not dropping dead. Just sore as hell,” Elijah murmured, surprised by the genuine laughter from the housekeeper.
“I’m fine,” Emma chimed in, “you do have a hot running water, correct?”
She giggled again but nodded, “Yes, I do. We have a few rooms vacant; there should be one for both of you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he quickly replied, “we’ll be sharing.”
The woman smiled wide, moving over to the stove top to stir a russet brown liquid. “That’ll be fine, then.”

***

Elijah had no idea how horrible he looked until he was staring at himself in the mirror, predominantly covered in other people’s blood. It had never truly bothered him, killing people, but the process of cleaning up afterwards? Gruesome.

Emma forced him to sit on the toilet as she kneeled before him, lifting up his shirt gently as she examined a nasty purplish bruise along his stomach.
“Y’know, this position is pretty convenient for—“
She pointed the tube of gauze at him, a frown tugging at her lips although playfulness danced in her eyes. “Don't even finish that sentence. Who knew someone could still be horny after having fifty shades knocked out of them?”
“A) It’s a good diversion and B) I got the two Hulks.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “You wanna interrogate that son of a bitch after dinner or tomorrow morning?”
“I’ll give him the night, mostly to suffer,” Elijah replied with a shrug. Then, glancing down at his bloodied skin, he asked nonchalantly, “Do you ever think about the people you kill after you do it?” It was almost an automatic process for him, as simple as brushing his teeth or shaving, and that thought, in itself, was sickly sweet.

[/size][/blockquote]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

Her answer didn't take much thinking about. “No,” She said, reaching over to turn the hot tap on. “If I stopped to think about every person, I'd be as insane as Glenn was.” And, speaking of... “Though, that particular one I thought about. I think he's the only person I've held a gun to that I didn't want to kill.”
“He didn't give you much of a choice.”
“No, I know that. It had to be done for the safety of everyone but...still. He was what he was because of Hoffman - speaking of, what do you make of that 'Dark Triad' shit he was going on about?”

She rose up to shut the tap off and using the cloth they'd found, whipped the worst of the blood from Elijah's eyes, fighting a grin when he grimaced up at her.
“It's worth looking in to,” he grumbled as the warm cloth journeyed down the length of his jaw, stripping away the drying blood.
“You need a shave,” Emma observed, spying the growing six o'clock shadow beneath. “You're starting to look like a tramp.”
Playful blue eyes locked onto hazel. “A sexy tramp.”
She laughed. “No, the gross, smelly kind.”
One dark brow rose up to meet his hairline. “You think I'm gross?”

There was a drop in his voice, hardly noticeable, but Emma picked it up straight away. With everyone else - family, friends, women - Elijah constantly oozed self-confidence; nothing could so much as dent his stone cold facade, no matter what they said or did.

Only with each other did they let their guards down and reveal the true selves hidden below.

“Yes,” Emma answered, trying to force her smile away. “I think you're disgusting, vile, unattractive... I can hardly bare to touch you.”

With the last of the blood was washed clear from his face, Emma dropped the red stained cloth into the water and bowed her head, the tip of her nose brushing at his. “All clean, big guy.”
A mischievous smirk shaped his lips then. “And you're not, which means... My turn.”

*********

By the time they made it back downstairs, Angelica and the children had polished off most of the food, their empty plates piled high in the sink. Emma stomach growled in protest, mourning the loss of the lamb she'd heard so little about.
“This is your fault,” She grumbled to Elijah as she slumped against the oak counter top. “You just had to insist on a thorough wash, didn't you?”

He answered her with a wolfish grin. “It was worth it.”

Emma rolled her eyes, but didn't attempt to deny it.

“Oh!” Angelica's wrinkled smile entered from a room on the right. “There you both are. I was beginning to wonder if you'd fallen asleep. What's wrong, Emma, my dear?”
She stood up straight. “You ate all the food...”
Angelica waved a dismissive hand, “Don't sulk, Emma. Do you really think I wouldn't save anything for you?”

As she spoke, Angelica opened the fridge, revealing two plates staked high with meat and veg and all sorts of goodies Emma couldn't wait to try. Jesus, when was the last time they'd enjoyed a proper meal, excluding takeouts and pizzas? Probably back at he agency.

Emma had to keep her mouth shut, just to hold back the drool threatening to overflow.
“Jean said to tell you there's beer in the fridge and fresh soda, too, since I know you don't drink, Emma.”

The couple sat down eagerly at the empty kitchen table and all but snatched the plates from her outstretched hands.

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah had hardly waited until the fork was properly in his grasp before digging into the tender meat and potatoes, stuffing his face rapidly as the hot food made a descent down his throat. Was food supposed to taste this good? The couple had spent the first four or five minutes entirely consumed in their dinners before Elijah was taking a brief moment to let half of the plate (that was now in his stomach) digest.

“We’ll have to figure out how to contact the rest of the group tonight; let ‘em know we took care of the whole train fiasco, and the Dark Triad business. Maybe they’ll be able to look into it while we’re gone.” In spite of a more than fantastic shower and grub that was heaven on a plate, his mind was still partially wired on the mission at hand and the promise he made to Beth to take care of everything. Christ, the woman was probably throwing a hissy fit back home.

"And how do you suggest we do that? It's a secure telephone line back at base and it automatically blocks unrecognized numbers. Maybe smoke signals?" She suggested.

Elijah opened his mouth to speak just to be interrupted by the loud, “HELP ME!” that was shrieked from the porch. They simultaneously stared at each other before turning towards the mesh door and rising from their chairs. The village had a ridiculously old build, similar to Venus Hill, except they managed to make theirs look a lot nicer.

He removed the small handgun from his holster, although it would most likely come to no use, before stepping out into the cold, damp air to see the burly man wailing as he thrashed about on the floor.

“He’s like an overgrown baby,” Emma muttered from behind him.
Elijah’s lips tightened together before he was digging his nails into the guard’s raggedy vest, snatching him up as far as the cuff would allow him without completely breaking his wrist so they were properly eye-to-eye. “Listen good,” he hissed, “you will not wake up or frighten a single child tonight, y’hear me? And I will not hesitate to put a bullet through your brain—“ he pressed the barrel against his temple, causing the man to whimper “—if you make unnecessary sounds like that again. Stay tight until the morning for questioning.”
“A-And then what?” he whispered, “Will you let me go?”

He genuinely snickered. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve seen too much.”
“Then what are you going to do?!” He cried out, “Y-You can’t just kill me! That’s the most vile—“
A chamber clicking sounded from behind them, Emma’s eyebrow shooting upwards as she directed it at the guard. “Did you just call my boyfriend vile? I don’t do well with people insulting the one’s close to me.” Elijah fought a tiny smirk before focusing his attention back on the guard.
“NO!” He shouted, tears rushing down his cheeks. Elijah felt like rolling his eyes; here comes the water works.
“I was thinking more like incarceration but I might just put you in the ground. At least you’ll be useful there. Fertilizer, and all.”

The man was writhing against the floor, opening his mouth to speak before Elijah quickly silenced him with the tip of his Magnum. He was no longer an FBI agent and the things he did would no longer have to be morally correct, but as long as he was getting his way he was perfectly fine with the outcome.

“Don’t open your mouth. Don’t ever fucking open your mouth until you’re spoken to. We clear?”
He nodded rapidly, and Elijah stood up carefully before turning back towards Emma. “Now where were we? Ah, right. Dinner.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

”Why are you keeping him alive, anyway?” Emma asked when they were sat once more at the table. “Do you really think he’s going to let us get a relaxing sleep, while he sits out there, waiting for death?”
"He has the insignia on his arm, for The Dark Triad or whatever. Once we question him in the morning, we can dispose of him, and after all that -" he scoffed " -I doubt he'll be making a peep for the night."

They ate the remainder of their food in a comfortable silence and washed up their empty plates. Whoever was assigned to washing up duties already had enough with the kids cutlery, let alone anyone else’s.

Turning away from the sink, Emma spied a cat calendar hanging from the cupboard – and paused when realisation of what the date was hit her.
It was June twelfth.
Which meant that tomorrow was… Emma frowned to herself and abruptly turned away from the cuddly ginger kitten staring back at her. June thirteenth had never been anything to celebrate – and hell, she’d never had anyone to celebrate with, since the day of her birth hadn’t meant anything to others.
When she’d been a child, Emma had commemorated the day by herself and had continued to do so until she’d reached her eighteenth, by then the thrill had fizzled out and she’d learned to ignore it completely. Okay, maybe not completely; a small part of her had mourned each and every time she’d let it pass without doing anything.

This would be the first year that Emma would have someone else with her – a friend, a love, and the closest she’d ever come to having a family.

It was moments like these that Emma truly realised what Elijah was to her; her heart and soul, her moon and stars… in short, he was her everything.

Without giving him warning, Emma dropped into his chest, her arms locking around his back as she hugged him to her tightly.

"Your birthday's tomorrow. Don't think I've forgotten," he smiled lazily.
Emma looked up into his face, shock and amazement masking her features. “You know when my birthday is…? It’s not something I tell people.”
"You told me...and I remembered," he responded easily.
“I told you…?” She asked, grimacing. When had that happened? Oh. Wait. “I didn’t think you were listening.”
"Now why would you think that?"
“I don’t know,” Emma shrugged. “Back then, I wasn’t sure you listened to anything I said.”
"I may have pretended not to, but I did."
She squeezed at him, “You never cease to surprise me, Elijah.”

He pressed his lips to the crown of her head tenderly. “What’s the big deal about remembering your birthday?”
Because you’re the first person that has, Emma thought to herself, pressing her cheek against the gentle and rhythmic drum of his heartbeat. “Nothing. How do you suggest we get in touch with the others, anyway? I forgot to ask Angelica if there was a phone around here.”

Emma forced herself to step away from him. She’d had her needy moment, and he’d more than satisfied it, but she couldn’t stand around and cultch at him all night; especially when there was more vital matters to attend to, things far more important than her impending birthday.

Her fingers skirted around the waist of his jeans before she dropped her hand away, a wistful smile capturing her lips when her eyes once again met his own.
He’d remembered, even when she’d forgotten.
The thought in itself made her want to reach out and touch him again, but Emma restrained the need by tightly folding her arms across her chest, locking her hands away.

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

After spending a few more moments in the kitchen, the couple retreated to the foyer to look for the old woman amongst the quiet house. Elijah checked his watch to see ten o’ clock flashing back at him in the faintly-lit living room, the sofas a cozy yellow color with a stitched afghan thrown over the side. A glass jar filled to the brim with candy resided at the center of the coffee table, a few magazines and books splayed across the surface. He stood corrected; there was nothing concentration camp-y about the house.

Elijah wouldn’t be able to properly sleep until he was in contact with the rest of the group; if Hoffman really was aware of The Rebels, it wouldn’t take him incredibly long to find out where they were hidden. Thankfully, Angelica ambled down the steps in a night gown, hair pinned in a bun as she held an empty mug in her hand.

“There you are,” Emma greeted, moving over to the woman.
“Don’t you two ever sleep?!” She exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest in bewilderment. “You look like you’re ready to kick ass and take names.”
Elijah’s brows shot up, partially because he had never heard her use language so crude before. “What’s sleep?” he questioned, a hint of teasing in his tone in spite the seriousness that shrouded his features. He used to be the type of guy that went to bed at 2 in the morning and woke up at 2 in the afternoon.

“Unfortunately that’s the least of our concerns,” Emma responded, “we were actually wondering if the phones were available for use. Surely you all have a system that protects outside sources from tracking the call.”
The woman frowned slightly. “I’m afraid none of the houses have telephones. All communication to the outside world is managed by the leader and they are all located in his home. He usually monitors the calls.”
Elijah cursed under his breath, a hand flying up instinctively to rake through his growing hair. He hadn’t been able to shave in weeks. “When can we see him?”
“His office hours are from ten to seven. I can take you there first thing after breakfast.”

Emma looked as tense as he did but nodded regardless. “That’s very kind of you, we’ll take you up on the offer.”
“And could you two do me a favor?”
Her eyes pushed together but she shook her head, “Of course.”
“Is it possible to get rid of that man on the porch by tomorrow? I don’t want him posing a threat to the children or the people in this house. Clara and Rick try their best to keep their place safe; their known around the town for the excellent services, matter of fact.”
“He’ll be cleared out by dawn,” Elijah replied firmly. He already foresaw he wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight, and another early morning was in store.

She clasped her wiry hands together, a tiny smile pulling at her lips, “Thank you so much.”
“Thank you, Angelica, for everything,” Emma responded.
Elijah nodded his head in thanks, before adding, “Have a nice night.”

The pair was soon climbing up the stairs with intentions of nursing their bodies back to health for the taxing day ahead.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

Emma woke up the next morning with a less than pleasant attitude. Not only was she a whole year older than she was yesterday, but neither her nor Elijah had slept much on the lumpy, small bed they’d been supplied with. She could hardly complain, though, since they’d been given the room out of kindness.

Their first job of the day was the Triad member on the porch.

Emma watched as Elijah led the man through the thick line of trees, journeying deeper into the woodland and away from the farmhouse.

“Please!” Large gray eyes spun around to look at her, shinning with fear as he took in her solemn expression. “Please, don’t let him kill me. I don’t want to d-die!”
“Are all the Dark Triad members like you?” She asked sceptically. “Because if they are, what a piss-poor excuse – “
“You know of us?” He blurted out, cutting her off. “How do you know of the Triad?”
“Hey,” Elijah dropped him to the floor hard. “We’re the ones asking questions here. Not you.”

With his hands still cuffed together in front of him, the burly man shuffled to his knees to lean up against the thick trunk of a tree. He already had a bruise blooming around his right eye from his and Elijah’s last encounter.

Never being the one to waste any time, Elijah jumped straight in with his questions.
"Do you have a base? And where is it located?"
“There is no base.” The man replied simply.
The heel of Emma’s boot connected with the side of his head, knocking him face first into the dewy grass, while Elijah moved to stand over him. "You're telling me there's no fucking base? Where's your meetings?!"
“I…I can’t. I won’t!” A sudden surge of courage appeared to take over him then, his expression solidifying. “I am a member of the most powerful gathering of people known to man! I will not bow to the likes of you.”

My, my, didn’t this one have a personality disorder? Scared and terrified, to strong and determined. A complete 360 if ever Emma saw one.
Capturing him by the scruff of his shirt, Elijah lifted him from the floor, his face an inch away when he growled out his next words. "Then I'll kill you and find someone else who isn't so stubborn," He hissed, "and I'll make it so slow you'll wish you had opened your mouth the first time."
“You’re going to kill me anyway.”
“We’re not as merciless as you are,” Emma spat. “Tell us what we want to know and we might let you live. Now, once more, where is your base?”
“And what makes you think we only have one? You have no idea what you’re dealing with, do you? You think it’s just here, just D-79, just America?”
Elijah's eyebrows furrowed in confusion but that expression vanished just as quickly as it came. "Well you can start by locating me to the closest one."
“No-where you’d be able to find.”
Emma peered over Elijah’s shoulder. “Try us.”
“Go to hell, rebel bitch!” Grey eyes, ones that had pleaded with her not ten minutes earlier, were now glaring at her with a heated hatred. “Your blood will paint the walls of D-79 before long.”

Elijah’s fist slammed into his cheek, knocking him once more onto the floor. “Wrong move.”

*********

They stepped into the clearing side by side, their cargo abandoned over three miles away, in an old tool shed with nothing but a knife should he need it. Emma had to give it to him, he’d resisted a lot longer than she would have guessed; but the moment Elijah had rolled up his sleeves and played boxing-bag with him, the answers had started to flow easily.
The D-79 Triad base was located beneath a club, Red Vixen, and the only way to access it was to go through the building itself.
The insignia was also on each and every member’s wrist, in the form of a tattoo. The man had had one and so had Glenn; it was a great way to identify those not in uniform.
They’d also discovered that Hoffman didn’t know of them, exactly, only that there was a group of rebels messing with his plans. He never had a clue of who they were.

In the end, ditching instead of killing him had appeared to be the right route to take.

Overall, it had been an interesting start to her birthday.

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah had intended to get through the day’s chores relatively early for a surprise he had planned later on in the evening. As much fun as beating the shit out of guards were, he definitely had other plans for her birthday that were yet to be revealed to her. Before leaving, he had briefly spoken with Angelica on what he had in mind and she had wistfully agreed to make it happen. All he had to do was keep her busy until the evening, which was a task that was hardly difficult when they were trying to save the country in three months.

Angelica had given them detailed instructions to the village leader’s house, the couple stopping outside of a redbrick cottage half an hour later. Shrubs lined the neatly constructed patio, the grass that surrounded his lawn a brilliant green. Christ, the scenery could have been snipped out of a Home & Lifestyle catalog with its almost unrealistic neatness.

Emma was the first to the door, pushing a sweaty tendril of red hair behind her ear, trying to make herself look as presentable as possible before the door swung open, revealing a little boy in flannels and trousers, brunette hair slicked back.

“Hi—“ Emma was cut off midsentence, as if the young child couldn’t have cared less with causalities.
“Dadddd!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, “You got visitors!”
He then stepped away from the entrance, a sliver of the long, dark hallway behind him being revealed, before a tall, thick man with a wide nose and piercing gray eyes greeted them with two raised eyebrows. For a house so quaint, the people inside hardly reflected the same image. “How may I help you?”
“We need to use the phone,” Emma responded quickly, “and were told you were open.”

He chewed on a piece of something Elijah couldn’t depict, taking several seconds before nodding. “Come on in. Keep in mind, I’ll be listenin’. Can’t risk a threat here in the Safe Haven. Besides, y’all are newcomers.”
“How do you know?” Elijah questioned, stepping into the house. It smelt like tobacco and leftovers. “That we’re newcomers?”
“We only got about seventy five people in this town. It’s easy to tell when someone is out of place.” His beady storm eyes connected with his for a brief moment, the light from the window panes casting ominous shadows on his face before he was pushing open a door, a tiny end table with a phone on top residing neatly in the center. It couldn’t have been bigger than a coat closet, forcing the trio to cram into the tight space.

Emma shot a glance at Elijah, uncertainty welling in her orbs before he was giving her the nod for approval. In a moment of unawareness from his host he mouthed, ‘Speak in code’, his partner aptly picking up on the silent message.

Elijah’s bare shoulders chafed against the scratchy fabric of the man’s overalls, slightly wincing once Emma dialed in the number, patiently waiting for a response. From his position, he could hear Ethan’s voice filter in, the apparent arrogance differentiating him from the rest.

“Ethan,” she murmured quietly, “we brought the kids home. And you know that puzzle we were trying to figure out? Well Elijah and I may have found a missing piece.”
Elijah let out a sigh of relief when the words Ethan were saying were filtered out upon reception, Emma speaking with him for another two or three minutes before hanging up the phone. She then turned towards the man, offering a hand for him to shake. "Thank you for your services."
He extended a hand, although Elijah could have sworn a hint of suspicion drifted over him like a cloud. "Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you two, now."

Elijah only nodded, leading Emma out of the door as they stepped into the luminous rays of sunshine once more.

"What's the update back home?" he questioned, once they were out of earshot.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

”They’ve been busy bee’s in the last twenty-four hours. Lucas and Rylee nearly had kittens searching for us, Beth and Logan discovered the tattoo – they’re behind us, that’s for sure – and Ethan heard from his father. Hoffman is pissed off to the extreme after our train stunt, he put out an arrest warrant for two ‘unknown assailants’ and well… he found your bike. I’m sorry, big guy, but its now in pieces along Roun Avenue.”
Shame. Emma liked it.
"Shit, the bike? Really?"
She nodded, “Mhmm, they found it at the station and since camera’s had picked us up driving it… yea, it didn’t look good. But Lucas managed to deactivate the chips inside the helmets before it was even discovered.”
"And they didn't see our faces, correct?"
“We had our helmets on, and even my hair was out of view, not to mention there were no cameras in the station, remember? Plus, the warrant was out on two men…” Emma grimaced. “I do not look like a man.”
Hell, she’d even been told by more than one trainer in the agency that she was too ‘equipped’ in the front department to do half the things she could. Did men suddenly have boobs, now?
Well…okay, some men did, but that was besides the point.

"Couldn't look farther from one," Elijah replied with a tiny smirk, "Guess people still aren't used to women wielding guns and grenades."
“I don’t use grenades,” Emma pointed out, only to pause. “Well, only some times.”
“Did he mention anything else?”
She gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. “He said that Ryan is looking much better now.”

Damn, Ryan… with all the mess surrounding the children and the train, Emma had momentarily forgot the drug-induced kiss he’s given her. Only to be reminded of it, thanks to Ethan.
Elijah remained dead pan, only shrugging. "Alright."
“I know you don’t care but…” Emma hesitated, rubbing at her arm. “…he was kind of messed up before we left. When I visited him, I think he thought I was his dead wife.”
Why was she telling him this? Hadn’t she decided that keeping it to herself was the best route to take? But then again, Elijah had kept his Sadie kiss to himself, if only for a few days – it was then that they’d promised no more secrets between them.

"Did he...touch you or something?"
Emma glanced in his direction, only to find him looking at her, his blue eyes intently seeking out her own.
“No…” Emma trailed off. “Not really…”
Elijah nodded. "Well the hallucinations are expected. As long as he isn't dead weight, couldn't care less."

Well, that was easy. For some reason, she expected him to take it differently than that.
“You’re right,” Emma agreed. “It was only a kiss, anyway.”
"A kiss? What the hell are you talking about?" He tensed, stopping in his tracks.
She stopped beside him. “You just said… the hallucinations… he thought I was Sarah and lumped a kiss on me.”
"What did you do about it?" His expression calculating.
“Oh, I took the opportunity and stuffed my tongue down his throat. What kind of question is that?”
Elijah shrugged. "A curious one. Ryan's wanted in your pants for months now. "He rolled his eyes before adding, "Not that he threatens me because we all know who's the better option, but still."

Emma spun away from him, his attitude beginning to irritate her. “You’re such an arrogant arsehole sometimes, Elijah. I pushed him away, okay? Just like you pushed Sadie. And you are threatened, if only a tiny bit, other wise you wouldn’t get so hostile whenever I talk about him. UGH! Forget it. I didn’t want to keep a secret from you, but now I don’t know why I bothered. It’s not like men are queuing around the block to kiss me, so what should you be worried about?” She mumbled the last part, her pace quickening as she headed back toward the farm.

“Ryan’s been asking about you,” Ethan had said to her. “You’re the first thing he spoke of! He looked kinda anxious, so make sure you come back to him soon, okay?”
Idiot.

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah had a smartass comment hanging on the tip of his tongue, but he used every ounce of control to bite it back. He didn’t need another fight to explode on the day of her birthday, especially when the plans he had in store actually required her to not want to stick a heel up his ass. So, as an alternative, he caught up with the vivacious red head, in attempt to match her pace. “I’m sorry, okay? You meant…well. Me and Ryan just don’t get along, that’s all.”

It wasn’t as if Elijah had intended to make him public enemy number one in the first place; he was the one who had decided it’d be a good idea to dislike him right off the bat, in spite of how uncalled for it was. Elijah had always figured (and his hunches were correct 99.9% of the time) the man had hidden feelings for Emma and was simply butthurt that he was the best option all around.

"You don't? I never knew that."
“It wasn’t initially my fault,” he pointed out, keeping his voice as calm and leveled as he possibly could have without sounding artificial.

They were nearing the barn, the sun just above the plethora of trees as the village buzzed with life from afar, kids running around across the grass, farmers driving trucks stocked with supplies for harvesting. The air was thick with a sweet-salty smell, smoke lifting from windows as supper was prepared.

“But you've hardly made it better, Elijah. You keep throwing out these ridiculous comments about how he wants to get into bed with me - when he doesn't! He's crazily hung-up over his wife."
Elijah couldn’t have possibly disagreed more, but they couldn’t agree on everything, so he simply shrugged. “I only react when provoked.” Maybe there was such a thing as too much honesty in a relationship; maybe the dirty, little details didn't always have to be uncovered if it wasn't shell shocking.

“Can I just do that cute thing that makes you forgive me?” he questioned with a teasing grin, automatically deciding the topic wasn't significant to their lives of relationship and didn't have to be prolonged any further. Lacing his fingers around hers, he drew her up to his chest, stopping several yards short of the large house. Last year Elijah would have never accepted defeat, but he had soon come to realize that when you loved someone enough, you were willing to pass the baton every once and awhile no matter how much you enjoyed being right.
Her jaw tightened, fighting back a smile that was threatening to break through her frown. "No. Nothing cute will save you this time."
“Even this?” he questioned while leaning in so close his lips were skating along her lobe, teeth catching the soft skin lightly.
"Yeah," Emma breathed, her fingers curling around his shoulders.
Elijah snickered lightly, murmuring, “Somehow I don’t believe you.”

They were soon interrupted by the door swinging open, Angelica’s form in the doorframe. Her eyes connected with Elijah’s in the ‘I need to talk to you right now’ sort of way, before he was lightly drawing from Emma’s grasp, fingers pushing a tendril of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered before jogging over to the porch.

“Everything’s set,” the old woman announced with a tiny smile. “I can get one of the girls to distract her while you get yourself together.”
Elijah nodded in thanks; she didn’t have to do this for him, nor should she want to after him practically accusing her of being Aldolf Hitler’s doppelganger, but she had, and that was an act that was commendable. “Thank you for everything, I appreciate it,” Then, reaching out, he patted her shoulder with sincerity.
The old woman chuckled wistfully, eyes twinkling. “I was your age once; young. Hold onto her; she’s a keeper.”
The corners of his lips tweeked upwards slightly, “I will.”
“Now get on inside and get ready!” she exclaimed, pushing him through the door as she started towards the redhead.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

When Elijah disappeared into the house without so much of a glance behind at her, Emma started after him, only to come up against a stern, solid human wall; also known as Angelica.
She immediately moved to step around the woman, only to find her path once more blocked. “Angie, where’s Elijah going?”
“He said he’s not feeling well, so I made him go lie down for a little while,” When Emma opened her mouth to reply, she cut her off with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Leave the boy alone, Emma, sweetheart. I think he could do with some time by himself.”

Emma found herself frowning sternly at the older woman. “By himself? But we haven’t had any time alone in – “
“Let’s chat, shall we? Some of the girls want to see the rest of the town and another mature adult is just what I need.” Without waiting for an answer, Angelica locked her arm through Emma’s and spun her away from the house, forcing her back down the winding dirt track. “Y’know, I never thought you’d get yourself a boyfriend. You always seemed so adamant when you were younger that you weren’t interested in relationships.”
“I wasn’t.”
“So, Elijah was a special case?”
Hazel eyes locked to the floor. “He just kind of… I don’t know… it wasn’t supposed to happen. We hated each other, and I’m not even sure when that changed.”

As they passed a tall oak tree, the four young girls playing beneath it ran to them, each falling in to step next to the two women. The tallest of the four – and she didn’t look much longer than about seven – snapped up Angelica’s free hand, while the smallest suddenly took hold of Emma’s.

At first, she involuntarily flinched away from the unexpected touch, but when the bright green eyes of the child looked up into her own – the same ones that she’d first met at the station the day before -, so full of happiness and trust, Emma couldn’t bare to push her away.

“Emma?” Angelica continued, “You were saying?”
“Are you talking about your boyfriend?” One of the girls asked - the blond with pigtails. She bounced around the rest of them, her cheeks dimpled by her grin.
“Boys are gross.” Another giggled.
The brunette holding Angelica’s hand peered around to look at Emma inquisitively. “Do you kiss each other?”
“EWWWWW!” The girls exclaimed in unison.

Angelica rolled her eyes at the girlish behaviour. “Now, now, one day you’ll all have boys of your own to kiss, and you won’t think its gross then.”
“Never.”
“Nope.”
“I don’t think so!”
“Is he your prince?”
Emma looked down at where the small voice had sounded from, only to find the hopeful eyes looking up at her from beneath messy black bangs. “My what?”
“Prince,” She said again, a skip in her step as she said the word. “And you can be his… his pretty princess. Will you live in a castle?”
Angelica shook her head impatiently. “Poppy, that’s only in stories. Does this look like a story?”
The girl pointed up to Emma. “No, but she looks like the princesses in the books.”
“No, she doesn’t!” The blond argued. “All the princesses are blond, Pop, not ginger.”
“I didn’t mean her hair!” A pink tongue stuck out into the air defiantly. “She’s beautiful like they are and she has nice skin, too.”
“Skin?”
“That’s silly.”
“I think he’s too tall for a prince…”
“What? Prince’s are tall!”
“Giants are tall, Rosie, not princes.”

As the girls continued to chatter about things that weren’t real, Angelica nudged at her side, once again capturing the younger woman’s attention. “You were saying?”
Emma shrugged, “Is it important?”
“Yes, to me, it is. We were talking about your man – does he love you?”
“He tells me he does.”
“And are you being safe?”
The question took her off guard; Angelica, always straight to the point. Emma coughed, clearing the lump away from her throat. “Of course we are…”
“That’s good then… for now, at least. Maybe a little later on – “
“We are not having this discussion.”
“That would definitely be one child never short on love, that’s for sure.”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah hated being nervous, possibly more than he hated being emotional. His thoughts were running around in circles, questions plaguing his every thought – Would she like it? Is this how she would want to spend her birthday? Christ, did she like PB&J? What if she didn't like it? He knew he should have went with pasta! Who didn't like pasta? He pressed his palms against the bathroom counter, blinking down at the marble before meeting his piercing blue eyes in the mirror once more. He was clad in a white wing tipped blouse (in which Angelica had left on his bed), and dark black trousers. Elijah had never willingly dressed up this much in his life, other than—

His jaw tightened. Their first date. The one that had gone incredibly wrong. That was it; that was what was making him so tense. The little pessimistic part of his brain that believed this would only be a repeat, that something horrible would happen and fuck up everything once again. Where was this even coming from? The fear? Throughout the entire day, he had been perfectly fine until this was actually happening and he was forced to peel away the layers of himself and place all his trust in Emma like he had done before.

Elijah straightened up, rolling out his shoulders as he glanced at the watch. He had ten minutes until Angelica would be sending Emma up to clean off; there was no more time to doubt himself or allow his own issues to gnaw away at the crevices of his mind. He was fine, he’d be fine, and there was nothing to get screwed up about.

Backing away from the mirror, he turned on his heel before quickly making his way down the steps, thankful he hadn’t run into the familiar red head on the way, before slipping out the back patio door. The sun was just beginning to manifest into a burnt orange color, ribbons of red hues stretching across the sky as evening became more apparent. The area around the back of the Safe House was large and spacey, a dirt trail winding through the back forest as dozens of trees stood closely knit together.

Angelica had shrouded several tiny petals against the dirt road, leading a tiny trail into the forest that eventually spilled into a brook-lined clearing. Elijah held a single lilac in between his thumb and forefinger, breath escaping his throat and mingling with the slightly chilly weather as he followed the path for several minutes until a circular grassland greeted his vision.

Dark water bubbled as it rushed through the river, creating a natural soundtrack to an already peaceful area. A canopy of willow leaves nearly covered the sky as if the trees were hugging them in, blocking away the outer world. It was almost picturesque, the various flowers in a plethora of colors that stood in dark contrast to the mossiness of the grass blades, a gingham blanket at the very center with a single bottle of non-alcoholic champagne chilling in a bucket of ice, a large, woven basket with food peaking over the top adjacent to it. Angelica had made everything perfect, creating the perfect ambiance for a romantic birthday dinner.

So why was he still so nervous?The thought of the outcome of this night depending entirely on what he said and/or did still managed to send waves up and down his spine. Elijah trailed aimlessly back and forth as he restlessly awaited the redhead to appear.

[/size][/font]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

When they arrived back at the house nearly two hours later, Emma was disappointed to find that Elijah was no where in sight. He wasn’t in the room, like she expected him to be, and when she asked, Angelica didn’t seem fazed by his absence.
“He’s probably gone out for a walk,” She said with a casual shrug of her shoulders. “Now, will you go and wash up for dinner? I laid some clothes out for you on the bed – go put them on please.”
Clothes? “Why do I need to change? It’s only dinner.”
“You’ve had those clothes on for two straight days, Emma, and that’s disgusting. Go. Change.”

Didn’t the woman know how to ask nicely? Do this and do that; Jesus, who needed a mother when they had an Angelica in their lives? She was that, and more.
Cursing under her breath, Emma retreated back up the stairs and did as she was told.

She freshened herself up, leaving her hair loose around her shoulders instead of pinning it back or up like she normally did. It was only then that Emma noticed the neatly folded clothes out on the bed – clothes that certainly never belonged to her, that was for sure. The floral dress looked like it had just been printed out of a summer catalogue, matching flat sandals and all; Emma could picture the pigtailed blond modelling them now.

After a string of grumbles, (and because there was nothing else to put on) Emma tugged the dress on over her head, shocked to find it fit her perfectly and headed back down stairs, only to be cut off in the hallway by the four girls she’d watched that afternoon.
“This is for you,” One of them offered, holding out a piece of paper. “It’s a map we made for you. You have to follow it.”

Emma stared down at the messily drawn instructions. “Um… maybe later on, after dinner?”
“No, you have to go now!” The one she knew as Poppy exclaimed, pushing her toward the back door with light nudges. “You’ll be late if you don’t go right now.”
Ugh, where was Angelica when she was needed? She’d never been great with kids, more so humouring them when it was needed; and if there was one thing she really didn’t want to do then, it was search the woods for no goddamn other reason than it was what the little monsters wanted.

“If you don’t go,” Another one spoke up. “We won’t leave you alone allllll night long.”

And like that, Emma was leaving the house, the map locked tightly within her fingers as she stepped off the porch.
If there was a choice between wandering around the woods for the evening, or being annoyed by four irritating little girls, Emma would take the woods, no question.

Sighing, she looked down and began to follow the inaccurate directions into the woodland, leaving the farm and it’s occupants behind her. When barely a minute into the walk, Emma’s mind drifted to where her missing Elijah could be – it wasn’t like him to get up at leave her, especially in a place that was unknown to both of them. Once she was done with the ridiculous search for nothing…

The thought trailed off when a loose petal caught her eye from beyond the paper, momentarily drawing her attention. She looked down, amazed to find that there were more ahead of her, littering the pathway like a beautifully bright carpet. They followed the same lines of the map, the petal colours matching the crayons doodled on the paper.
“What the…”

Emma went on for several more minutes, until the gentle sound of running water met her ears, growing louder with every passing second. It was that sound that drove her on, even when the petals had run out, leading her into path of a clear, grassland.
A moving shadow was the first thing she saw, belonging to that of a tall form, pacing back and forth impatiently.
“Elijah?”

[/blockquote][/font]