The Guardian

[Katelyn]

Elizabeth moved into the bedroom, the smell of hers and Peter's sex still lingering in the air as her stomach lurched again, her hand coming to her mouth to ensure that she didn't throw up all over the place. She stopped and closed her eyes, trying to focus on a scene that put her in the middle of nature and far - far away from this place. She knew she'd get free and that she'd see her father and Arthur again, she just needed to get the fuck out of this apartment.

The sound of the television coming from the other room would be helpful in allowing her to open the door without making a sound, but if someone were waiting just outside of it or had their vision aligned with the movement of the door at all - she'd be in trouble. She moved to the bedroom door and turned the knob - ever so slowly - opening it and peeking out. Her heart was racing as if trying to run from her chest, but she'd found that she was out of options and laying there waiting to be rescued wasn't one of them either. She had no idea if anything would think to come there and even if they did, chances are that Peter would just sent them away.

There were two guys on the couch, watching TV, the back of their heads to her as she moved out of the room and softly closed the door behind her. Within a few minutes she was slipping out of the back door, her body covered in sweat as she moved down toward the edge of the garage and ran to the first tree in the yard, a large oak tree that shaded the majority of the front yard. It was late afternoon or early evening, she couldn't really tell which, but knew she needed to get the hell out of here before Peter found her. She started to move but felt large hands grab her from behind, a hand clamping over her mouth as she yelped and started to scream and kick. It took her a few minutes to realize who it was, but as soon as she smelled him she turned in his grasp and busted out crying, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his neck, her words muffled, but meaning clear.

"Oh my God Arthur... get me out of here now. Peter took me and... and... oh my god, please just get me out of here..." She felt her mind start to crack a little, the strong emotionless surgeon from this morning turned into a panicked, frantic woman in front of the man that she'd started to care for. He'd not want her now, but she just needed his help and then she'd let him go.

[Deamonbane]

Arthur drove the car, his memory frantically rushing through the files on Peter that he had read earlier. It was a bit blurry as, at the time that he was reading all of it, he was filtering out the sounds of her moans and his grunts as they had been in the middle of intercourse, what seemed like ages ago, but, were, in fact, only a day or two. His hands had stopped shaking, since they now had the steering wheel to lean on, but he felt the withdrawal of intense adrenaline hit him like a ton of bricks. First, he felt the incessant urge to yawn, followed by a weakness in his muscles, and a trembling in his stomach. He felt like heaving, but there was nothing to throw up. He swallowed, knowing that the right thing to take now would be sugar.

Dammit! He didn't have any time to think about himself. Elizabeth was in terrible danger, being held for ransom, to blackmail the President into some terrible act. He wondered just what they planned, wondered what they would do to her if the President, as he should, refused to negotiate with terrorists. The just that thought made his mind go crystal clear. The president wouldn't be able to do anything. He would have to shoot the fuck off of the pieces of shit that were holding her now. The trembling went away, as did the nausea and weakness, replaced by training and ice-cold resolve to get her back.

It wasn't just his duty, although, if asked, that was what he would say drove him to escape from Federal confines, wounding three agents, possibly more... how many were there again? He shook his head. He would say that duty drove him when, actually, what drove him was... What was it? Love? Attachment? Or was it glorified duty? No matter. He was getting Elizabeth back, and Peter was going to help him, whether the shit liked it or not. He would beat the guy until he had no bones left in his body larger then a toothpick if her had to. Elizabeth was going to be found.

He pulled his car to a silent halt near the surgeon's house. Switching the pile of rust off, he stepped out, imagining what he looked like. Maybe it would help to hammer home the point that he was seriously not shitting around. He walked over to the walkway, and was about to step on it when the sound of movement came to his right. His heart jumped to his throat, and his right hand grabbed the gun that was tucked into the side of his pants, and he turned to where he heard the noise. But it wasn't a threat. The person hugged him close, and he nearly jumped out of his skin in relief. It was Elizabeth. He hugged her close, his skin still sweaty, his chest still bare, and his arm still bloody from when he had busted the window of the car.

"Oh shit Lizzy," He whispered," What the fuck happened to you? Where's Peter? I am sure he can help us out..."

[Katelyn]

“No…” Elizabeth screamed in his face and pounded her fists against his chest. “You aren’t listening to me. Peter is the one that took me, dammit.” She hit him one last time as she started to cry, the sound of men starting to move around in the house, the front door opening much to her horror. She bolted for the trees and ran deep into the surrounding forest that went on for miles around Peter’s large estate. She didn’t know where Arthur was and though she cared, her mind was set on surviving and that meant getting as far away from Peter as possible. She sobbed softly as her hand covered her mouth, her eyes moving along the trees as she realized she was possibly lost.

Her head moved about almost frantically as she looked for something to give her a clue as to where she’d come from, but the forest greeted her with consistency on all side. The picture was changing and yet remaining the same. She backed up until her back hit a large oak tree, jumping slightly as the bark dug into her thin shirt that was torn in places. She ached all over and felt used and disgusted. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and sunk down until the ground rushed up to meet her, her thoughts preserving the delicacy of her cracking conscience and moving to memories of happier times.

The day was warm, but the water was cold and it beckoned her to come and play. She looked over her shoulder at the shore as her mother and father sat together, their hands clasped, fingers intertwined as they spoke softly, the wind creating the proper barrier to their much needed privacy. She rolled her eyes and walked toward the beaches edge, her board in her hand and her eyes on the horizon.

“Beautiful…” she breathed and wasted not a moment more, her body gliding onto the board as the ocean rushed in and lifted her into the sky the white tipped water pulling her hard. She moved quickly, efficiently with fluidity – her actions practiced and honed again and again over her young life. She extended her hands to her side, balance her only responsibility as the water would do the rest of the work. Nothing could interrupt these moments and she coveted them, locking them away as memories for a time when life wouldn’t be so simple. For just a moment such as this…