Their Guardian

Chapter 2

Edited.

Third person POV*

Deep in Berlin the team woke with a new sense of purpose. It had been almost two hundred years since a new one had been awoke, and there was one common question on their minds: Why her? She didn't look like a soldier, she looked like a kid. That thought alone filled each of them with their own sorts of emotions.

They looked at each other silently, and none of them were able to find the energy to speak. The dream suffocated them. It forced the warmth out of their bodies only to leave them cold and scared. They knew it wasn't their emotions, but separating it from themselves was proving to be a challenge. They could all still feel her.

They had never met, never exchanged names, and never even had a conversation with her, yet each of them knew they would protect her forever. They all knew she would be important to them, and none of them knew how.

"What do you remember?" Andy's voice cut through the silence, focusing their minds on anything that could be productive.

She was met with the same silence that had blanketed them moments before, as each of them struggled to remember any small detail that could lead them to the young girl. They just sat there, replaying her death over and over again in their minds trying to wrap their heads around everything they had witnessed.

"They were speaking Russian, that has to narrow it down." Joe said softly, running his hands through his hair. Nicky caught one, lacing their fingers together as Joe continued to fidget nervously. He was terrified for their unknown girl. She was so young.

"Soviet soldiers, She was in a holding facility maybe? There are many of them across Russia" Andy said with a thoughtful expression, yet her hands were clenched tightly at her sides, almost as if she was scared she could break something. She was pissed, not only was a new immortal awoken at probably one of the worst times, she was just a child. Andy had been around along time and one thing that never ceased to piss her off was the drafting of child soldiers.

"I felt her death but she wasn't scared, she was gleeful... How the hell are we gonna find her?" Booker asked with a solemn expression, reaching for the flask of vodka in his jacket. The girl felt different to him. All of them had died in combat, in battle. She didn't get to fight her fate, she accepted it with a smile, and that was something even Booker still struggled with. When all of them died, they felt lost and confused, yet he believed that she'd be the opposite, and that thought was far from comforting. It would make her unpredictable, and that was not something they could afford right now.

"Are we not going to talk about how young she was, she doesn't even look old enough to be a solider, much less a spy?" Nicky was trying not to point out the obvious but he felt it needed to be said. He was appalled, he just watched a child die a very gruesome death and he felt that the others were kind of brushing over her age.

"We need to find her. She is clearly in more danger than we are right now, she may even be discovered." Joe said with an air of protectiveness that was only ever used for Nicky. He saw so much strength in her final moments: He just hated that she was in that position in the first place.

Nicky wordlessly handed Joe his journal and a pencil. The group crowded around him, correcting every brush of his pencil. When they were done, they had a fairly accurate portrait staring back at them. He did a good job catching every detail, maybe too good... Her eyes held the same emotion: grief. They just didn't know if it was for her, or maybe something else?

"We have no Idea where she is other than somewhere around Russia, let's catch a train in a few hours and try to end up closer to her." Andy spoke in a tone that could leave no arguments. "We may get more information with the dreams to help."

So they did just that. Whether she knew it or not, she was family now and only one thing was known for certain, they protected their family.

*Unknowns POV*

The forest was so quiet it was eerie, after almost never being alone for 4 months the silence was enough to make her uncomfortable. The cold however, was a welcome sensation. Sure her cell was cold, but something about the wind blowing on her face made her smile.

The snow began to gently fall, and she tilted her head upwards, laughing as the flakes began to collect in her hair. Her arms spread out as she twirled around, allowing joy to run through her body for the first time in months. She was free.

Her leg caught on a branch, sending her tumbling back into the snow. More laughter bubbled in her throat as she smiled brightly. The white puffs of air are what forced her upwards.

She was still in her dainty dress and stockings, and she knew if she continued like this she would either end up sick or dead, and while she appreciated her second chance at life, she was not going to waste it playing chicken with hypothermia. It was with those thoughts that she trashed her desire to stop and make a snow angel. Next time, she promised herself.

The walk was soothing, her thoughts however, were not and she couldn't help but think of the people that helped her with her mission. She wondered if her partner was safe, if they had taken him out of Moscow, or if he died like she had? Most importantly she wondered if they had enacted the failsafe plan. If they did, she would have a much easier time staying 'dead'.

The sun dipped behind the trees, and she could feel the temperature starting to drop. She knew that shelter and a fire should be her next priority, and it was like god answered her prayers. 

She turned and saw a cabin tucked into the side of the hill, it was so well camouflaged that she almost missed it. Another easy smile found her lips as she waddled to the door. After some force it opened, and she was pleased to find it dry. Good enough, the thought came to her quickly. 

 It had a fireplace with some wood laying beside it, making her task load a little lighter in order to sleep easier. The more she looked around the lighter she felt. A bed, a wardrobe and even some boots, she smiled at everything, almost feeling like they were smiling back.

She looked outside again and noted it wasn't dark enough for a fire yet. If they had noticed her body was gone, her position would be given away by the smoke. Her best bet was to collect as much as she could from the snowy forest and hope no one was looking for her. 

She noticed a bucket and something that vaguely resembled a pot and scooped them up, following the sound of rushing water and finding a nice-sized river. 

She stopped and looked at the picture book scenery only briefly. She knew she was lucky that everything was working out so well for her. She escaped, she found shelter, and a source of warmth, so why did she feel so empty? 

It was like she was numb. Sure her smiles came easier, and the joy she experienced did feel real. But what happens when the shock wears off? It was like her body was coming down from a high, and she was scared the lows would break her. After all, what was more dangerous than hope?

When she returned to the cabin, it was dark enough that she could safely light a fire. So after boiling some water she cozied up by the fire making sure to stay far away from the bed. She had 4 months without one, whats one more night? She couldn't start spoiling herself now. With the fire started and one less thing to worry about she decided to surrender to her curiosity and look in the old desk. 

Inside she found a map of the area and a copy of Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. It wasn't her favorite, but beggars can't be choosers. With the novel in hand she was more than able to lull herself to sleep in front of the cozy fire. The dreams she had were far less cozy.