Author's Chapter Notes:
Character death - you might need a few tissues.
Used to be *my* life. Used to be able to come and go when and where I pleased but all that changed in the blink of an eye. One second is all it took. A simple glance, brown eyes meeting hazel through a cloud of smoke. In that moment my life changed.

It was only after when I was putting the truck in park and waiting impatiently did it hit me. In one blind moment of sheer stupidity I broke my one cardinal rule. I let down my guard, my defenses and surrendered the entire fuckin' war without a shot. Not even a peep of a canon - nope just one big white flag flying high over my head saying I surrender.

Me, the poster boy for belligerent independence suddenly needed someone more than my next fight, my next breath. So what do I do? Compound my stupidity by promising my protection, promising to take care of *her*.

In was a promise I'm ashamed to say was ridiculously easy to make and even easier to keep. Never really understood why that was - just knew it was. I mean it went against everything I knew... but she made it worth it.

Within the promises I made I found my salvation, my humanity. I exchanged my freedom for a tether, a cage if you will but was never really in bondage. You can't be a slave to something when you choose it.

I've heard `em say ~he's such a good friend to her. He'll be such a good father one day. Some woman is gonna get a helluva husband~ I've heard it all and it was all a load of horseshit.

Problem is none of them saw beyond the surface. Not one of `em in all these years have ever dug deeper than the surface to see what's underneath. It's like a lake - on the surface the water can be smooth as glass, calm as can be and yet underneath, underneath there are currents, tides that flow so strongly that they'll drag you under in nothing flat. If only they'd bothered to take the time to look a little deeper they might have saw.

I doubt though that any of `em would be willing to do that. Most of `em are so concerned with themselves, with their fight that they couldn't care less about what's happening within someone's mind. Good thing to - they'd have killed me pretty early on if they knew.

"What ever happened to her?" the question draws my attention from the bottle of beer I'm staring at to a tired bartender who's polishing a glass in front of me. Realizing that I've been talking out loud I shrug softly.

What do I say? What can I really say? There is only one answer and its not the one I wanted. "I still see her every so often. Still feel her touch," I reply sadly. Every time I close my eyes I see her face, every time I dream I feel her touch. Oh yes I haven't really lost her..yet.

"Sounds like you got it made then man," setting the glass down he moves off to help another drunk and I rise shakily and stalk out of the bar. Climbing aboard the motorcycle I rev the engine and head for home. Head for the one place I know I can be near her - even as I wonder if I'm not a masochist in some fashion because I know the pain that waits for me there.

Slipping through the large metal gates I slow the bike and park it beneath the eves of the garage before walking around the back of the mansion. Its not so unusual that I avoid everyone, that I don't enter the huge pile of stones that is called `home'. Following a now familiar path that's been lined with stones I walk silently, welcoming the dusky light even as I know that dawn will soon be upon me.

Stopping I kneel on the frost soaked grass and stare even at the sharp, breath robbing agony that fills my chest. Reaching out my hand I touch stone, closing my eyes I'm touching flesh. Touching the one thing in this world I never thought would let me down - but it did and now my life is mine again.

"Pappa?" softly sultry, the question is swimming in confusion and pain as I turn my head slightly to stare into the dark eyes of an angel I've watched over for years.

"What is it baby girl?" I growl softly, wanting to be alone in my misery, my agony and knowing that they won't let me be.

"Come inside. It's freezing out here.."

Shaking my head I turn back to the stone and remain motionless, it's no colder outside than it is inside. I don't want to walk the halls I walked with her, don't want to smell the rich smells of our home without her perfume. Frankly I don't want to be where she isn't, yet I have to be at least for now.

"Daddy please," the soft concern drags me to my feet and I stare at the stone as the light from the rising sun washes over it. A life cut too short for my taste but I knew in my heart that someday it would happen even if I didn't want to admit it.

"I don't think so Angel," I whisper sadly.

"I do. Come now, Marie is awake and asking for her Pappa."

Nodding I follow wordlessly, life must go on even if is killing me slowly. Turning my head at a slight breeze I sigh, I've got to get more roses for her today. More red ones that say I love you. The leaves from the trees are falling in colorful array, blowing across the ground like tender fingers teasing at the long grass. It would appear that even mother Nature is in mourning something I am glad about - why should anyone be happy when my world is destroyed.

From the door I watch as the leaves dance across the stones, pausing for a moment in front of the carved granite angel sitting within the rose bushes that grow around it before moving on. The quiet click of the door sounds like a roar of thunder to me but I put on my usual face and turn back to face the world - only I know that a rather large piece of me is missing - and I'm not about to tell them that.

Soft as a baby's sigh the wind moved aside the leaves that had gathered at the base of the stone as a shadow pasted over it. The darkening of the sky told of a coming rain storm even as the shadow remained steady, wrapped within the greys no one would ever believe the small figure that knelt next to the granite.

No one would have even acknowledged the pale fingers that traced over the lettering with a sadness born of loss - no one but a man many had written off as an animal, as a stealer of innocence and light would even believe.

*Marie Logan born November 02, 1986 Died September 22, 2092 :Beloved wife, mother, and keeper of my freedom. Rest in Peace.*

Like a tear shed to show a sharing of misery, of grief a single drop of rain fell on the stone and trailed down gently to leave a wet mark that seemed to split the stone in two, even as the shadow settled on the ground next to the marker. Soon, soon he would have his peace, his world back in order. It was a soundless promise that the wind knew would be kept.

End.
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