The Heir

The Fallen Comrade

She who reads is booked every night.

It was two in the morning when Gunnery Sergeant O'Loughlin walked into her penthouse in New York City. She could see the beautiful city that she loved spread out in front of her through her living room windows, and a smile spread across her face. This was her home for the last 25 years when Cleo and her father had moved from Louisiana after her mother's death. As she placed her duffle on the floor, an unmistakable smell assaulted her nose, causing her to flip the lights on as she shut the door. There lying on the floor was Sergeant Gonzales covered in blood, dead.

He lived with her for about two years now, and she trusted him with her life. What freaked her out the most was that she had to unlock the deadbolts to get into their apartment, so either they had taken his keys, or they were good with a lock pick.

"Fuck!" Cleo exclaimed as she grabbed her phone and called her uncle.

"Cleo, how are you, Baby Girl?" her uncle asked, picking up the phone in a sleepy voice.

"Uncle Vance, I need your help!" she yelled into the phone.

"What's wrong?" he exclaimed, sitting up in bed.

"I just got home and found a dead coworker on the floor. He's been living with me for a year. Whoever did it locked both the deadbolts and the regular lock. I need you to send someone immediately!" she sputtered, trying not to panic.

"I'll put Gibbs and his team on the first flight out, call your Uncle Coulson. The last I heard was that he and his team are there," Vance spoke in a soothing tone knowing how powerful his niece was.

"Uncle Coulson?" she exclaimed after hanging up with Vance, and Coulson had picked up his phone.

"What's wrong?" he asked, rushing into the living room where the team was.

"I need you to come over right away! I already called Uncle Vance, but his team won't be here for a few hours, and there is a dead Marine in my living room. He was my roommate. Please, get here fast! He was a friend, and he was like me. Only your team and Vance's team will understand him. Whoever did it locked all of the locks to the door to the apartment," Cleopatra cried, feeling weak as she looked at her best friend.

"What is his name? Go into another room, CC," Coulson spoke as he signaled the team to roll out.

"His name is Pedro Gonzales," she whimpered as she sat on her balcony in the middle of New York.

"You introduced me to him a few years ago. He controls fire, right?" Coulson spoke calmly as they climbed into the trucks, and he punched in the location.

"Yeah, he does-did. He controlled fire. Grandfather wanted me to marry him next year. He thought if I couldn't find the time to date, I should marry a friend because they would understand everything I've been through and rule with me in five years. Still, now I have no clue what I am supposed to do," she spoke as silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Your family will always be here for you, My Dear. We will be there soon, so just stay where you are and remain calm," he continued to soothe, wanting to be at her apartment already so that he could hold his niece in his arms.

"Of course, Phil," she whispered and hung up.

She sat there staring out at the city that, in a few years, she would no longer live in anymore. Before his deployment ended and he returned home, they had agreed that they would go forward with the wedding next year. Now all that was gone, and she felt so alone. He was the one man that she truly loved, no, that she truly trusted. Loving a man was not her concern, but trusting him was. She could be friends with the man she married and ruled her home country with him. She didn't find it necessary to romantically love him. She didn't even move as the rain started to come down in sheets upon her balcony, and the raindrops clung to her eyelashes. The pain in her heart was immense, and she longed to be on Andromeda again with him, where she realized that she trusted him with her life. There was no one to tell and nowhere to hide. She kept her pain to herself while a part of her died.