I opened my eyes and was blinded by a bright light. I felt sore and groggy. Something was keeping my hand warm. I turned my head and squinted through the light. Alexander was sitting next to me holding my hand.
“Z-Zander?” I quietly said.
He quickly looked at me, his eyes red as if he had been crying. “You’re awake,” he sighed. “Thank goodness.”
“W-where am I?” I asked blinking repeatedly, as I tried to get my eyes adjusted to the light.
“The hospital,” he said. “…Your mother got free from one of the cops and took his gun. She ran after you and shot you in the back.”
“S-she actually shot me?” I asked in shock.
He looked down at the floor. “Yes. I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you in time.”
I had so many questions, but I only asked the most important one. “What happened to her?”
He kept looking at the floor. “…When I got to you, she was standing over you laughing. We got into a struggle and I managed to get the gun away from her.”
I stared at him while I waited for him to answer my question.
“I accidentally shot and killed her in the process,” he said.
We were both quiet.
“Zander,” I said.
He finally looked at me.
“Thank you,” I said.
He stared into my eyes. “I’d do anything for you, Alexia.”
I blushed a little under his gaze.
He stood and let go of my hand.
“Zander, what’s wr–”
He cut me off with a kiss. I was surprised, but I kissed him back.
“I love you, too,” he said.
“W-what?” I said.
“I always have and I always will.”
I couldn’t help but to smile. “Really?”
He nodded and opened his mouth to say something else, but he was interrupted by a woman’s voice that said, “Alexander, please restrain yourself.”
At these words, his eyes became cold again and he sat, but regained his hold on my hand.
The woman of the voice came into view.
“Glad to see that you’re awake. I’m Detective Charlotte Anderson,” she said, as she flashed her badge that identified he as FBI, but I recognized her as someone else.
“You’re Zander’s mother,” I said.
Alexander looked at me. He was obviously stunned that I had known something about him, when he didn’t share it. It was only fair since he had known everything about me.
“How did…?” he started.
“You have her photo in your room,” I said. “…and you have the same eyes.” I quickly added, feeling myself blush a little.
“…I forgot about that old picture…” he said, obviously hearing, but ignoring the second part.
“Yes,” Mrs. Anderson said. “I am his mother, as well as the head investigator in the case for your mother, Sarah Prescott.”
“Case for what?” I asked.
“She’s wanted for murder in 2 states, 14 robberies, 25 kidnappings and 8 counts of vandalism,” Alexander explained.
“W-what?” I asked in shock.
Mrs. Anderson walked to the window and looked at me. “I’m sure you know about her delinquent years.”
“She did some terrible things in that time,” Alexander said.
“I didn’t know that she was that bad,” I said quietly.
“You have no idea,” Mrs. Anderson sighed. She moved closer and held her piercing stare steady on me. “I do have a few questions for you.”
Alexander stood and blocked her path. “She doesn’t know anything,” he snapped.
Mrs. Anderson turned her gaze to him and said, “Alexander, please step into the hall for a moment.”
“No,” he said. “I’m not leaving her in your care again. Last time I did, it caused her to end up here.”
When Alexander finished his comment, Mrs. Anderson slapped him. “You will not talk to your commanding officer that way, and you most certainly will not talk to your mother that way.”
I watched Alexander, as his eyes, that flared with the same anger he expressed towards Elliot, never left his mother’s. He clenched his fists and locked his jaw, but calmly said, “I don’t care. I won’t let Alexia get hurt again.”
She glared at him. “Alexander-“
“No,” he stopped her. “Trust me. She knows less than we do.”
Mrs. Anderson glanced back at me. “Very well. Get better and get out,” she said, then walked out the room.
I looked at Alexander. He hadn’t moved since his mother hit him.
“Can you stand?” he asked.
“I think so,” I said. “Why?”
“Do you still want to go to Celia City?” he asked, as he looked at me.
I was shocked. “I don’t want to leave you,” I said.
He smiled and laughed a little. “I just fought my mother to not leave you in this room and you think I’d send you far away?”
“But you said-“
“I’d go with you, silly. I’m not letting you go ever again. I’m not that stupid.”
I stared at him. “Seriously?”
“I-I’d love that.”
“Yeah?” he smiled more.
“Yeah.” I smiled as big as I could.
“Good,” he said, “because no wasn’t an answer.”
I laughed, then got quiet as I remembered something.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” he asked.
I blushed at the term of endearment. “So…you’re a cop?” I asked.
“Yes.” He dragged out the word, I suppose wondering where I was going with that question.
“…What’s that like?” I asked, unsure of what to make of the situation.
“Lonely and stressful,” he quickly responded.
“So like my life without the training?” I joked.
He laughed. “Yes, like that.”
I smiled. “I like it when you laugh like that. It makes me feel better.”
He smiled. “I like it when you smile like that. It lets me know that you’re okay.”
I blushed a little and he leaned over to kiss me again. I liked the way his kisses felt. They were warm and comforting—like him. Those were things I’d never say out loud.
When he stopped, he looked into my eyes and I looked into his.
“This is perfect,” I whispered.
“We’re perfect,” he responded.
He smiled at me and held my hand. I squeezed his hand and smiled back.
Everything was finally okay. It was all better.