The Greene Effect - REWRITE!!

CHAPTER FOURTY TWO - HOME?

Amelia Greene -

"No," Pierson's voice is low, "we ain't leaving you here!" He looks down at his old friend; because that's what he is. At least right now.

"You get me up I'll hold them off!" Pierson has to say no. Why would he abandon him like this, right now?

He looks down at Turner, lips parted as he glances between him and the Germans ahead. Say no. Say no. "You have to go! Go!" Blood drips down Turner's chin, a slow streak of red.

He takes the gun from Pierson's hand. Pierson's silent for a moment, before speaking. "It was an honor."

My neck snaps at those words. "What?" I breathe. "No, Pierson, we can't -"

"No sacrifice too great." Turner cuts me off and I'm silenced. "Go."

Pierson was never hesitant. Pierson was the type of person to charge into battle without a second thought of his safety. He was the guy who was always on the front lines.

But now, all he showed was hesitation. He's slow, and not a word falls from his lips. His hand reaches out, as if he reads my mind, and pressed against my chest, preventing me from moving closer to Turner.

"Fall back!" He yanks me to my feet as I let out a sound of protest. Daniels does the same but Pierson doesn't turn around.

"No, Pierson, we can't leave him!" I say, trying to rip away. His arm wraps around my waist and roughly holds me in place next to him, forcing me to move beside him. Like he already knew he'd have to.

Oh my god, we were leaving Turner. He's going to die. He's going to die. Daniels has to be dragged away by Stiles and Zussman, similar to my situation.

"No!" I cry out, struggling against Pierson's hard grip. He uses all of his strength or maybe none to hold me. "No, Turner!"

He gets to his feet and begins to fire. He can't die. He's not going to die, he's Turner, he's invincible. He's . . he's Turner for Christ's sake!

Then, he falls to his knees, his figure slowly getting smaller as Pierson continues to drag me out, silent. I can see everything.

Turner takes one last look back at us, and then, there's another loud bang.

"No, no, no!" The screams leave my throat, my arms thrashing wildly.

I feel my hand connect with something soft, like skin, and I suddenly tumble onto hard floor. "Turner, no -"

"Amelia!" My mother's voice cuts sharply over mine, louder than I have ever heard it. I still, freezing for a moment.

I sniff the air and panic at it's foreign scent. "Where's Aiello?" I demand, struggling to get to my feet. My feet that are barefoot. Pierson will get pissed if he learns I fell asleep without them.

"Amelia," she tries again, "Aiello's not here. You're -"

"Where's Zussman?" I try once more, trying to define her face in the darkness. The oddity of her being here doesn't register within me; all I focus on is the fact that I'm not where I'm supposed to be. "Pierson?"

"You're home, Amelia."

I had forgotten the scent of my own room. I blink, panting to catch up with the lack of breaths I had taken, and slowly lower onto the edge of my bed. Fresh tears slip down my cheekbones; I shiver. My nightgown hardly covers any skin. I'm not used to being so exposed.

I nearly cover myself with my arms, thinking wildly of the consequences of anyone saw me like this - and then I remember once more.

I'm home.