FIRE [FIRST DRAFT]

Chapter 25: Worth a Shot

 It all happened so quickly: fists and kicks connected with flesh in a fight for a mend, a fight for an end to all this. They fought so hard – all of them – but Aimee was beginning to think it would only be so long before they exhausted themselves and were at the mercy of AIM.

Aimee was tired, so tired that if it wasn't for the adrenaline surging through her, and the thought of losing her friends over those wretched microchips, she would have keeled over right there.

One of them came towards her with his gun, ready to use it like a club. She ducked under his arm and spun around to knock him out from behind. He was going to get up again. Aimee wanted to take his gun away before that happened, but as she reached for it, one of his friends kicked her in the side and took it for herself. Aimee rolled back quickly and pushed herself up off the ground, and then she was standing with her fists raised. The girl tilted her head at Aimee and tossed the gun aside, ready for some hand-to-hand.

Valerie had seen Aimee try to go for that gun, and as she stood above an unconscious opponent, she thought it would be clever to take theirs. She stared at it for a few seconds. In her mind, she had already picked it up, but her body was unreceptive. It reminded her that to pick it up meant to use it, that she had already taken a life once before, and she couldn't do it again.

Suddenly, someone was tackling her to the floor. When her mind returned to her, she realised that it was Dominick.

"What are you doing?"

"I just saved you," he said dismissively as he stiffened his arms and held his body off of hers. Valerie looked through the triangle between Dominick's arm and his side – she saw one of the agents pointing a gun where she'd been standing, and then she saw Finn kick him in the face. "You're welcome."

Dominick helped Valerie to her feet, flashing her that charming smile before his fists were out again. She followed him and joined Finn in the fight for as long as they could.

When they were all out of breath, and the bodies were in piles at their feet, it all came to a momentary pause – the hurling limbs, and the warlike calls that deafened them. And then came one clear sound, Gavin cried out in a panic as he witnessed someone throw an arm around Celeste and put a gun to her head. She wriggled in the agent's sturdy grip for a few seconds, let out a tired breath. Her fingers clawed at his forearm, but he would not budge.

"Stop that!" he hissed at her, pressing the gun against her cheek forcibly.

"Leave her alone, Lucas!" Gavin demanded. Aimee, Valerie, Dominick, and Finn also chorused something along those lines. Their generous concern was quickly tucked away in the back of Celeste's mind as she focussed on breaking free.

"Just shoot him," she grunted, her eyes trained on Gavin.

He flinched, hoping he could forget she had said that. The way she looked at him, the way she spoke, it was so much more than the words lead on. Gavin took a single step closer, his hands raised in surrender as he begged Lucas one last time.

"You're all stupid, you know that?" Lucas spoke, his Cockney accent prominent. "All Buckley ever wanted was to keep us safe."

Gavin winced, partly because he disagreed with those words completely, and partly because his body still throbbed and suddenly standing was more testing than fighting. Finn kept an eye on Luna, who was on the ground in full and docile consciousness. Valerie kept an arm on Dominick.

"What you're doing right now is not what he would have wanted," Gavin insisted, knowing those were the only words that would dim Lucas's volatility. "Celeste is one of us. Buckley wanted to keep us all safe, didn't he? We should not be fighting like this."

Lucas was on the brink of tears now, fighting them all he could. He knew that Gavin was right, but agreeing with him, accepting that, seemed like one of the hardest things he had ever done. He nodded submissively, and his hand wiped his eyes to keep them dry.

In Lucas's distraction, Gavin dashed towards him and drove a kick into his knee. Lucas bowed over, and in a fit of defence and confusion, shot Gavin in the leg. Celeste's cry triumphed over those of their friends and she punched Lucas, knocking him out. Everyone called the nurses for Gavin, but Celeste, she rushed to his side, anxiously combing hairs out of his face.

"You idiot!" she said enough times for Gavin to give a small chuckle. "Don't laugh about this! What were you thinking?"

By then she was nearly hysterical, but Gavin stayed calm. As the nurses sped towards him, his world slowed down and he just looked at Celeste, brushing stray hairs behind her ear. Nurses hoisted him onto a stretcher and quickly tended to his wound, ordering one another to fetch this and that. Celeste stood by his side, held his hand. She glanced at her friends, her head telling her to help them as they handcuffed fellow agents with their own cuffs, her heart telling her otherwise. For once, she didn't do the smart thing.

"I'm not worth it," she breathed, with an orchestrated ease. "I'm not worth you, Gavin. You don't get to die for me, it's not fair. So the next time I say shoot, you –"

"You think I don't know what you were asking me?" he muttered. "You don't get to choose that. You're amazing, Jane," he smiled, trying to ignore the pain as his wound was tended to. He focussed on her.

"You are selfless and kind even when you don't try to be. And you're brave and determined and beautiful. So you don't get to die on me."

It was in that moment that she gave in, she let herself feel, and she cried like a child. Gavin stroked the pillow of her cheek, absorbed her tears.

"You can go help them," he nodded over to their friends – he could feel how torn she was, itching to help them, itching to stay.

"Yeah, I know," she said. "You don't want me around."

"Celeste, I never –"

She grinned suddenly, there was laughter in her eyes, and she brought her kiss to Gavin's lips. His mouth welcomed hers, passionate and patient, savouring the sensation of her taste. When he stopped and looked into her eyes, he felt right.

Everything felt right.

"I was only kidding," she said softly.

Celeste passed the nurses a bashful – if not apologetic – smile before smiling happily at him. And then she stood, prepared to do as he had said and leave, but he refused to let her yet.

"You were wrong," he told her, his hand curled warmly around her wrist. "When I asked you to go to France, it wasn't because I didn't want you around, Jane. I will always want you around."

And before she realised what was happening, he brought her close, and he kissed her again.