This We'll Defend

"Well, whatev-"

"Hey! I see that cig on the ground!" a familiar voice suddenly boomed. "Have you heard of 'no littering'?"

Both Cid and I turned to the source of the voice and found ourselves staring at a familiar blonde woman who was carrying a bag of groceries. It was Amy, furiously eyeing at the burnt out cig next to the bench. I heard Cid take a deep breath.

"You better go," I whispered.

"Fucking figures," she grunted, covered her head with the coat's hood, stood up and walked away. She didn't even bother to pick up the cig. Sighing, I stood up, bent over to pick it up and threw it in the trash. Amy walked towards my way with her left arm cradling the brown bag filled with groceries, but her eyes never left Cid.

"Amy! What are you doing here?"

"Just dropping some groceries for Luna. Who was that?" she asked cautiously, but I could sense that she a bit tense. It looked like she saw a ghost from her past.

"Just some random drugged up chick asking for a light," I shrugged. "I dropped Luna off and I was on my way home."

She whipped her head towards me.

"Really?" she said baffled. "That's a little surprising. It took forever for her to trust me enough to walk her home. What the hell did you do?"

"What, nothing really," I answered. I folded my arms across my chest. "What do you mean it took forever for her to trust you to walk her home?"

She started to open her mouth, then closed it. Her eyes looked distrustfully at me as she scanned my body from head to toe. What the hell is your problem, lady, I thought to myself.

"It's not really my place to tell, Alice," she said shaking her head. "You'll have to ask her. Have a good night, now." She gave me a small smile before she went inside the apartment building. I stood dumbfounded in front of the building. I gazed into space as questions swarmed in my head. A couple of snowflakes melted onto my coat and face, which snapped my mind back to the present.

I took one last look at the apartment building before slowly making my way home.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Three weeks has passed, and Luna and I have become closer during class and our private sculpting sessions. However, she hasn't opened up to me more, which was understandable given the circumstances of whatever situation she was in. That didn't mean I was curious especially after Amy's statement about her. Nevertheless, I didn't want to push her.

Spring weather was coming and everyone was itching their way to get as much sun as they can even if it was the middle of March. Every resident of Chicago felt lighter both mentally and physically by shrugging off their winter coats and replacing it with a light jacket. Easter and summer were right around the corner and most shopping centres heavily decorated their shops with bright easter colors to attract more customers. Everyone seemed to have shaken off their winter blues and faced the day with a smile on their faces, except for the cops.

For us, crime was still happening at a steady rate and is expected to rise once spring transitions into summer.

Our Wednesday morning started as a normal morning, until some asshole in a rundown Ford white econoline cargo decided to speed in front of us, while I stopped at a red light.

"What the- you fucking saw that, right!?" Ashley exclaimed, pointing at the direction the van was speeding to.

"Oh, definitely," I said as I turned on the siren and started to drive. Ashley radioed in to the base's operator and looked excitedly towards the speeder. Lucky for us, it was midmorning. Traffic has died down and majority of people were at work. The white van was weaving through traffic flawlessly. Where the fuck are you going, I thought to myself.

The van suddenly took a sharp turn, almost hitting a couple of pedestrians, but luckily most of them had their backs against the buildings. A roadmap formed in my head, trying to determine the possible routes the driver had in mind. Then, it hit me. The van was heading towards the Dan Ryan Expressway.

Ashley looked at me with a sign of relief. A chase in the freeway is a lot safer than a chase in the city.

"They're heading towards the Dan Ryan Expressway," Ashley radioed in. "We're in hot pursuit. Possible back up needed."

The patrol car was gaining on the van fast. From afar, a couple of sirens were heard and my heart did a little flip. Back up was coming. I tried to tail-gait it by having the front of the car push against the rear-end of the van. When I attempted the second time, each sides of the van burst open and black hooded individuals suddenly popped up with weapons I never thought I'd see again: mk 48s.

Quickly, I fell back as soon as they started firing. Our bulletproof windshield got hit a couple of times. I let out a ragged breath when I saw one crack that was directly in front of my face.

"Jesus, but that was too close," Ashley said. Her voice shook a bit. "Good fast thinking there, falling back and keeping a safe distance from gunfire."

The gunfire wasn't what worried me. The people in that van weren't so heavily geared, but they had weapons I've handled during my time I served in the Army. They had mk 48s. The first thing that popped in my mind was that somehow these guys were military or mercenaries if they had that kind of resources. Whoever these guys were, they planned this chase.

My brows narrowed together as my hands gripped the steering while my partner loaded her shotgun in the passenger's seat. There were scenarios that went through my mind of the possible outcomes from this car chase, but all of them involved one of us being shot. Ashley tried for the radio again, but all she had now was static. I looked at the driver's side mirror and found an empty expressway. Where the fuck was back up?

A mile behind us, I detected two cars. My heart gleefully did a flip, but then stopped once the cars got closer. They weren't squad cars, but white vans. I looked around and barely saw any cars on the expressway, which raised more questions. The gunmen in front of us fired again and didn't stop until the front tires exploded. Empty silver shells glistened on the road, the smell of burning rubber filled my nostrils. Ashley yelled on top of her lungs as her hand clutched onto the shotgun like it was her lifeline. Cursing, I tried my best to control the car, but it was hopeless.

I had to stop the car.

The patrol car did a one-eighty as the airbags deployed. My forehead banged against white airbag. The seatbelt felt like a boa constrictor tightening across my chest. I heard Ashley gasped once her face made contact with her airbag, but after a couple of seconds there was nothing from the both of us. Everything went dark, a loud ringing was heard in my right ear.

For a moment, I was at peace. Everything outside my personal space was nonexistent. I was alone with my thoughts.

Flashes of memories flickered through my mind. My eyes flew open and I attempted to move my head to the left. The adrenaline high was still there and so far nothing was hurting. Yet. I was seeing double, but I knew something or someone was opening the driver's door.

Flicker.

I could feel the presence of my past's ghosts gnawing at every inch of my body, grabbing hold onto my mind and lungs as if wanting me stop breathing and thinking. All they wanted me to do was relive the horrors and remember their faces. My breathing got faster and I knew I was bordering hyperventilating.

Flicker, flicker, flicker

I was in Syria again with my unit patrolling the border with Lewis and Burke at my sides. They were talking about something that made me shake my head, but they roared in laughter.

Flicker.

Lewis' and Burke's faces appeared, but they weren't laughing. They were covered in blood.

Flicker.

I was in Iraq and a small child, no older than ten years old wearing a burka, fast walked towards my unit and I, but I knew. Behind her brown angry, desperate and abused eyes was a cry for help, but we all knew that underneath the dark burka was a bomb strapped on her torso. In her right small hand was a detonator and she was walking directly towards me.

I pulled the trigger.

I saw the tears that rolled down her eyes.

Flicker, flicker, flicker.

I willed my mind to wander somewhere else except for my bloody past. A happy memory would be suffice, but the harder I try to think of one, the more I realised how limited my happy memories were. Then, I saw it, but it wasn't a memory.

It was a woman.

Grey eyes, her smile, the way she calls my name. The way she touches and smooths clay and how incredible she makes sculptures regardless of being blind. I was thinking of Luna. My breathing and heart beat slowed down, but images of her raced through my head. The soldier and cop inside of me roared in triumph, but there was another unidentified version of me that held on to Luna.

"One..." I whispered shakily. I took a couple of deep breaths to control my breathing.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Slowly, I lifted my head and attempted to unbuckle my seatbelt. My hand felt weak against the button, but I put the right amount of pressure to release the latch. I leaned against my seat, letting my body rest against the leather cushion. My head was spinning and I felt disoriented.

The driver's door opened. As I turned my head, I made an attempt to grab my gun, but a gloved hand stopped me. It unholstered my weapon and threw it out from the patrol car. My eyes tried to focus, expecting to see Ashley by my side, but a pair of glaring grey eyes looked into mine. My vision was still a little fuzzy, I couldn't make out the face's features, but I knew for a fact that I was looking at a woman's face.

It had to be Ashley's face. Who could it be? My vision was too blurry to confirm.

I felt a little pinch underneath my mandible. All the sudden, I felt dizzy again and my body felt like spaghetti. I think I heard Ashley scream my name.

"Stand down, soldier."

It was a whisper. I couldn't tell if it was Ashley's or not, but I assumed it was.

Soldier, soldier, soldier...

I felt my body fall harshly on the cold concrete ground, but simultaneously my mind felt like it was floating somewhere high into the deep space. Someone was screaming my name, but it was barely audible. Along the way, I heard an explosion and the left half of my body felt like it was in a furnace.

At that moment, my future was skewed, but there was one thing for certain.

I wanted to see Luna again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I was taken to Northwestern Memorial Hospital and was held there for three days. The paramedics found me unconscious next to a burning car at the Dan Ryan Expressway. Luckily, I only had a couple of bruises and scratches. It was later on that I found out that I had some minor memory problems and there were multiple holes in my memory. The doctor, who was a serious, uptight Indian man in his 50s, informed me that I was in a car accident and that I was lucky to be alive with minor injuries. From what I can recall, I can remember most of the things that occurred on the day of my so-called accident, but everything became hazy after driving in the expressway.

I don't remember crashing into a white van.

I don't even remember how I got out from the patrol car.

But the number one thing I absolutely don't remember is how my partner died in the passenger seat.

"Say that again?" I asked quietly. I was in my hospital room with Dr. Suresh, the chief police and two other police officers. Their police caps were held in front of their stomachs, their eyes on the floor. Dr. Suresh took a pause and looked around the room as if he wanted to be elsewhere.

"Your partner, Ashley, sustained a great amount of fourth degree burns all over her body to the point...," he cleared his throat. "To the point that she was no longer recognisable. She died in the car explosion. I'm so sorry-"

"That can't be right, I thought she pulled me out from the patrol car?" I asked trying to recall what happened. "I mean...she has to be the one that pulled me out." There was something bothering me, but I just can't put my finger to it. Was it Ashley that pulled me out?

The chief police looked up and took a step forward my way.

"I know things must be confusing right now, but evidence shows that you pulled yourself out from the car probably minutes before it exploded. Now, the crash scene-"

"Are you sure you want to do that now, sir?" the female officer asked quietly. "I mean, she's probably in shock right now."

All eyes were on me and all of the sudden I felt like a zoo animal. Sighing, I gave him permission to continue on. The elderly chief cleared his throat.

"The crash scene between your car and the white van is a mess. What's left of your car is being analysed at the moment, but the evidence is quite clear: you tried to tail-gait the van, but somehow the car did a one-eighty. The white van came back and crashed the back part of the car, causing a gas leak. There was a spark, then boom. Both vehicles blew up."

I shook my head. This can't be happening, I thought to myself. Ashley can't be dead. I can feel it in my bones.

This can't be happening. Not again.

"I know it's hard-"

"This doesn't feel right. We were just chasing a speeder on a somewhat empty expressway, mind you-"

I stopped and remembered the black hooded figures who shot at us with mk 48s. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the hospital bed sheets tightly. Could it be that the people that shot at us were Black Disciples members? Cid had to be right, I thought to myself. They were coming for us one way or another.

"Chief," I quietly said as I looked at the bedded white sheets. The elderly chief police shifted his attention to me. "I think I know the people in the white van." Dr. Suresh excused himself and closed the door as the chief police along with the other two officers in the room listened to my theory. The information I revealed to them were limited, leaving out Cid and the mk 48s that possibly may or may not have been a part of my confused state, but I told them about the current gang activity.

The chief police showed some doubt, but given my clean reputation as a cop he took some consideration. Additionally, one of the police officers in the room fueled my theory by confirming some of the Black Disciples' activity.

"They've been wandering to other gangs' territory, chief," the young officer stated. "I know so because a couple of officers and I rounded some of them up. We were thinking the same thing."

I leaned against my pillow and sighed.

"I'll send more patrol out in the streets," the chief police said solemnly, nodding his head. "If what you say is true, you better be more vigilant. In fact, maybe it's best if you stay low for a couple of days," he held his hand up as I began to protest," and it's not just because you could be the next target, but you've just went through an accident. And you're partner just died."

Silence filled the room.

I silently nodded in agreement. They stayed for another five minutes updating me about the happenings in and around the neighborhood in attempt to lighten up the mood, but it wasn't working. A cold, dark aura hovered over me and everyone that was a feet away felt it. We bid our whispered goodbyes as their knowing eyes showed great grief and sadness. After they left, I was alone in my room with my thoughts.

I turned the TV on and eyed my hospital room with little interest. My eyes fell on my prosthesis that stood near the foot of my bed.

It was at that moment that I wept.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I was discharged from the hospital two days after. Given the fact that I managed to survive a major car accident with minor injuries, I should feel lucky, but I felt a mixture of multiple emotions. Despite my protests, the chief wanted me to stay low with pay for the next couple of weeks. I wouldn't know what to do with myself other than being in the field of action.

I realized that it was Thursday and I was debating whether or not to go to the Brown's Painting and Sculpting Classes studio, but the thought of Luna waiting for me alone gave me the push to attend our session. It was nearing the end of April and the sky was was dark and gloomy. Another rainy day in the windy city.

When I walked in the studio, two loud voices boomed through my ears and seemed like they were in a middle of a heated argument. I recognized Luna's voice and I assumed the other one was her boyfriend's. Awkwardly, I stood near the front entrance not knowing what to do. I heard Jasmine barking and growling, but Mark's voice aggressively increased. Suddenly, I heard a crash and automatically I sprinted towards the back of the studio.

Some of the sculptures were in shambles once I sprinted in and saw Jasmine in a defensive position beside Luna. Luna was on the ground near her broken pieces of work while Mark slowly walked towards her, huffing, his face red from anger and his chest rising from rage. He raised his fist and it was then I tackled him to the ground.

He gave a surprise yelp as his back hit the ground. I maneuvered my body and used my legs to put him in a triangle choke. His face turned into different shades of red. Desperately, his hands tried to pull my legs from his neck, but failed miserable. A couple of seconds later, his body became limp. Slowly, I untangled myself from him and cautiously looked at the man. He was unconscious.

Jasmine paced anxiously back and forth in front of her owner, her ears flinching as if she was conflicted to trust me or not. I stood up and eyed Luna.

"Luna?" I called out quietly as the german shepherd continued to pace. Unmoving, Luna was at her side, her hands touching the broken pieces of her beloved sculptures around her. I could almost see multiple emotions running through her mind even though she remained stoic. My fist curled once I saw signs of blood on her left temple.

"Luna, it's Alice," I said almost in a whisper. I took a step and Jasmine took a sniff my way. Her ears perked up, wagged her tail and whined as she stepped some of the broken pieces on the floor. It was if she knew how much hard work her owner put in them.

I went to her and asked her if I could touch the side of her face. Without a word, she nodded. Gingerly, I swept some strands of hair away from her temple and sighed with relief of how small and superficial her wound was. Her skin must've grazed a piece of a sculpture when she went down to the floor.

But still.

My mind switched to protective mode and without thinking, I hugged the woman. At first, she didn't respond and I feared I crossed a line, but she hugged back. Once she started shaking, I knew the shock has somewhat worn off and realization replaced it. Jasmine laid down and whined once she saw her owner crying. For a couple of minutes, we stayed that way until Luna pulled away, sniffling. Concerned, I cupped the side of her face. In response, she tilted her face and kissed the palm of my hand.

"Thank you," she whispered, giving me a small smile. "I don't know exactly what happened, but I think you might've saved my life somehow."

I took my phone out and dialled 9-1-1. As I made my report to the dispatcher, I looked at Luna with concern; she sat silently on her stool idly scratching Jasmine's ear. Within minutes, the police came the same time Mark's eyes fluttered open. The police officer, Tim Smith I think his name was, that visited me in the hospital walked in and observed everything in the room, including Mark. He nodded and looked at me with knowing eyes: this was an old school case of domestic violence. Before Luna and I even made our statements, they already know who truly was at fault.

"We'll take him from here," the officer said. "I'm sorry for the mess and what he's done, but we'll make sure he won't do it again. Take care, Barron." The officer offered to take Luna and I home and even gave us some resources of nearby women shelters, but I agreed to bring her home. After the other officer patched up Luna's wound, the other handcuffed Mark, who glared at me with hateful eyes as he passed me. As soon as the police cars sped away, Luna and I (and Jasmine) were alone once again. I looked around the room helplessly. Mark did a number of damage on her sculptures.