Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there.

So I wrote this for a friend. And I don't have anything new to put up here, since I've been in the middle of packing and moving back to school over  the last few days. So I'm going to post this. Read and enjoy. Or hate it. Whatever. Just read it. :D

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            "Is she dead?"

            He nodded, water dripping from the tip of his long nose and the ends of his grey-streaked mane of hair. He didn't look sad or angry. There was no remorse. Just the hints of pooled red at his feet that marked where he'd bled her.

            "What was her name?"

            His mouth hardly moved. "Averly."

            Trent folded his arms and looked at the small body laying in the rain. She looked peaceful. Xander had done a good job. He hadn't left a mark on her. She had dark hair. The rain had made it black. Trent knelt at her side and brushed the sopping strands away from her face. Trent was jealous of the big man. He'd learned her name. Something that he hadn't been able to do.

            She was smiling.

            "You didn't know her? You two seemed so close."

            Trent frowned. Her family wouldn't see her again, neither would her friends. Selfishly, Trent realized that he would never get to speak with her again. Only once for that brief few minutes in the morning.

            Kneeling there, he looked at her more closely. Up close, she was much less perfect than she'd seemed that morning. There was no sunrise reflecting off of her hair. The rain had washed away the little makeup that she had worn. Eyeliner and mascara ran down her face and down the side of her head, leaving tear tracks on her dimpled cheeks.

            "Not really," he responded. "I saw her on the train earlier. Ran into her again here. Didn't think you'd just...you know."

            Xander nodded again. "Seemed like you knew her better than that. Thought you were working with her."

            Trent answered angrily, "Does she look like someone who I work with? Damnit, she's what? Twenty?"

            "So are you."

            "You knew what I meant. I only work with older Lookers. I don't want to her into our world. I didn't want to sacrifice someone like her."

            Xander tilted his head, confused. "Someone like her?"

            "Innocent."

            Xander nodded. He didn't look at all concerned. Then again, he'd always been too dumb to think about his actions after he'd gone through with them. Xander was a Hunter. One of the best. The best. He'd screwed up now, though.

            "You know what has to happen now, right, Xander?"

            He shook his head. Of course he didn't.

            "You killed someone without a contract on them. Someone who wasn't associated with anyone with a contract on them...someone not associated with me." The big man was nodding slowly. "You took an innocent life, Xander. You owe a guilty one."

            Comprehension dawned on his broad features. "I only know two guilty ones, though, Trent. Brad's so far away, though...can we get to him before they find me?"

            Trent shook his head and moved his long, wet hair out of his eyes. The Windy City name didn't do Chicago justice. Rainy was better. Cold. Dead. Averly was almost smiling. One corner of her lips was lifted. It looked like she was in the middle of a nice dream.

            "You killed her quickly, at least? There wasn't any pain?"

            Xander shook his head. "No, no, no pain. Stopped her heart from across the park. It was fast." He paused. "What about Brad?"

            "We can't get to Brad. He's in Europe. The other Lookers will find out about Averly in the morning. They'll have found you by noon."

            He looked distraught. "They can't find me. They'll hurt me. They'll take you back."

            Trent smiled. "They won't hurt you, buddy. But you're going to have to trade me for the girl."

            "Trade you?"

            Trent tried to keep the shake out of his voice. It was hard. "You're gonna have to kill me, big guy. I'll bring her back."

            The big man shook his head vehemently. "No, no, no I can't do that. I'm supposed to take care of you. Your dad said--"

            "I know what Dad said. This is more important."

            "But..."

            "Hey!" Trent hated raising his voice to Xander. Sometimes it was the only way to get through to him, though. "Dad left. He's gone. And if we don't do this, they're going to get you. You don't want that, do you?"

            Xander shook his head again. He would go through with it. Now Trent just had to convince himself.

            To be fair, you shouldn't even be here. Mom traded herself to bring you back from the other side. You've done some good with the extra time. The least you can do is let this innocent girl come back and be with her friends and family again.

            Besides, maybe they'll let you look in on her now and again. And on Xander. He was good at his job, sure, but somebody had to take care of the big lummox.

            He tossed his jacket off and stood up, planting his feet by the girl, Averly's, head. Trent's hands were shaking so hard that he could feel the tremble in his legs. He'd committed to this, though. Next off was his shirt. The wet fabric stuck to his pale skin, but he eventually got it pried off. His tattoos, down the back of his arms and his back, swirls and arches and symbols of black and gray, glowed faintly in the light of the crescent moon.

            Xander was ready before Trent was. His hand was outstretched, the crosshair-shaped rune on his hand staring Trent in the face. He smiled.

            "Go ahead, big guy. Make it quick."

            The crosshair touched his forehead and everything went black.

            When Trent opened his eyes, he was standing on a grassy hill, surrounded by flowers. There was a lot of green and yellow. Some whites and blues. He smiled. He'd nearly made it.

            "Where did you come from?"

            He spun behind him and saw her. Smiling, just like she had been on the train that morning. Trent shrugged. "The same place you did."

            She nodded, recollection coming over her petite features. He smiled at her.

            "You're from the train?" Trent nodded.

            "Do you know where we are?" He nodded again.

            Averly smiled again. "Good! It's nice here, but it isn't home. I can't quite...I don't know how I got here. Part of me wants to just lie here forever, but I think I would miss home, you know?"

            "Yeah," Trent said. "I know exactly what you mean. It isn't so bad here. But home is better, believe me."

            "You've been here before? Do you know how to get back home, then?"

            Trent pointed behind Averly, over her shoulder. "Just turn around and go back."

            "It's that easy?" She giggled and swiped a lock of hair behind her ear. Her black hair was reflecting the light of the sun again.

            "It's that easy."

            She smiled and waved, then turned on her heel and started walking. Trent watched her for a second, not sure what he would see when she made it. Maybe nothing. She stopped and looked over her shoulder.

            "Aren't you coming?"

            "No," he said. "I think I'm going to stay for a little while."

            "Oh, ok. I guess I'll see you around then. Will you be able to make it home alone?"

            "Yeah," he said.

            "I know where I'm going."