Substantiate

/səbˈstan(t)SHēˌāt/

verb

provide evidence to support or prove the truth of

Melissa's POV

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Although the nurses clearly stated that I had to remain in the horrid wheelchair provided to me upon receiving my papers allowing me to leave the infirmary, I had never been one to obey the rules, which angered Luke to no end as I insisted on using the crutches lying around from his past surgeries to aid my walking attempts. Even though Luke had vowed to be extremely patient and supportive throughout the healing experience, I found it ironic that he was running around yelling at me the whole time; however, that partly had to do with the fact that I had failed to follow simple doctor recommended advice.

"You are supposed to be in a chair, not running around the colony doing some sort of damage control for an accident that could have happened to any of us," he repeated consistently as we walked toward the meeting room for an impromptu meeting called by Luke himself- more specifically, he pushed me while I, begrudgingly, rode in the prescribed wheelchair.

I opened my mouth, ready to give Luke a taste of his own medicine; however, when we stopped outside of the room, I decided it was better to keep my mouth shut than open another can of worms during such a serious situation. Being as though this meeting was called very last minute, my only assumption was that it was made in order to discuss my injury and what this would mean for the morale of the colony.

While it was true that clusters of people despised my existence due to my relationship to the tyrants of this world, most of the colonists adored me, making my injury impact the entire war in an extreme way. With that in account, the job of restoring faith and encouraging the colonists to enlist in the armed forces rested on us.

However, as I saw the boys sitting at the table with no sign of anxiety filling their faces, it came to my realization that this was the meeting that I had been expecting. I turned my attention to Luke, hoping for an answer from him, but instead, I just received a stoic glance from the leader of the colony's armed forces.

My eyebrows furrowed as I took the other boys' curious glances toward me, expecting me to know what was happening, but when I shook my head as a way to communicate that I had no knowledge of this meeting, their faces lost all color and anxiety seemed to take over the previously light hearted feel of the room. Luke went around to the three of us, handing each person a manila folder to signify that this meeting was in concerns to a person.

My focus shifted to the file before me, eyes widening as I took in the only words written on the top right hand corner in official penmanship, similar to that of writing on the files I had stolen from Central Office. I looked up at Luke suddenly, shaking my head at him as a way of saying that this didn't need to be done, but as he nodded his head and walked to the front of the room, I finally allowed myself to process the name written on the top of the file, closing my eyes as I realized where this meeting was going to be about: Bob Thornwall.

"I want to submit a request to the Core of the extermination of Robert Thornwall," Luke stated with fear strickening seriousness in his eyes. My mind froze, everything within the room suddenly falling silent as I was stuck within my mind for a moment.

From my extensive knowledge, I recalled the teachers stating that it was a commonly believed truth in ancient times that blue was a color that was never to be used unless it was being used within a portrait or work of art was depicting the Virgin Mary or Jesus, even then, they were the only ones allowed to have the precious color in their illustration as they were the only people who deserved such a beautiful and luxurious color. As I stared ahead at Luke's burning blue eyes, resembling the hottest fire I had ever seen, I understood why the color was envied and fought over so long ago.

Before me, I saw a broken man who was attempting to protect me in the purest way he knew how, but I also saw the way he was struggling against his internally instincts to avoid the killing of a man. Although I was very well acquainted with Luke's aggressive and wrathful side, I also recognized this as his grace filled persona, encompassing every story I had ever heard of the old religion based around Jesus. Luke was wrathful, but his wrath only came out of a love he held for me, which was what was taught of the Jewish man.

As I made the connection, I realized that blue was indeed an envied color because, surely, this man before me only had those crystal blue eyes due to his deserving spirit and rare ability to balance his wrath and vengeance with his morality and grace. I wasn't paying attention for the first half of the presentation due to my zoning out, but when I finally entered back into the meeting, I heard several shouts of confusion coming from Ashton and Calum.

"You want us to kill your father because he threatened Lissa?!" Ashton shouted in a vain attempt to convince Luke that this was a brash decision. Despite his knowing that his plan to dispute Luke's request would fall upon deaf ears, Ashton still persisted, stating many reasons why this would be a defining blow to the colony's morale among several ethical contributions.

"No offense Lissa, but you can't expect us to do this off of a hedge that he threatened to take someone's life," Calum said, throwing the file across the table, never even taking the time to open the manila folder to look through the evidence I had already seen through Luke's investigation of Michael's death.

I stared at Luke, finally attracting his attention after a few moments of listening to the others' complaints. The blonde boy's body looked defeated as he looked over at me as though pleading for my agreement to the plan. My eyes softened by the look covering his face, noticing the bags under his eyes as though this problem had been bothering him for weeks but something had finally clicked to assure him that this was the way to go.

I stared at him for a moment, almost as though I were asking him if he really wanted to do this, but his response was still a resounding yes as his eyes shimmered in the light of the room. A sigh emitted from my mouth as I opened the file, grimacing as I saw the first page was filled with an accident report of my injuries from Bob's attack of me a year prior.

Shivers covered my spine at the thought of how gruesome I must have looked after the attack when the boys found me lying unconscious in a pool of my own blood. My hands shook as I moved to the next page, which held photos of the crime scene as well as a list of all compiled evidence pointing toward Bob being the assailant. The page after, however, was the true measure of how far Bob had gone to assure that none of us would go against him.

Photos and statements about Michael's death filled the whole page, mostly describing the traumatic impact it had upon our small group of friends as well as the whole colony. Tears formed in my eyes as I heard the chaos of the room turn into silence, everyone presumably looking at me. A lump in my throat prevented me from breathing fully; however, I pressed on and observed the fourth page, filled with the evidence Luke had found months ago to prove that Bob had been an accessory in Michael's murder.

When the boys saw that there was actual evidence within the files, the strewn manila folders were picked up and used quickly as they observed the pages of evidence compacted against Bob in the matter of Michael's death. I observed their reactions, looking over to Luke a few times to find that he was looking back at me with a curious look gracing his features. A stiff smile covered my face as I looked back at the boys who were noticeably shaken by the charts.

"He hired the guy?" Calum asked through gritted teeth, his ears turning a shade of red that I had never seen upon the dark skinned boy. I knew all three of the boys within the room had tempers, but I never realized their extent until that moment when Calum flipped over one of the extra table in the room, effectively breaking the glass top of it.

My body shook in shock and fear of what was happening at that moment. Ashton had not even finished the file, yet I could sense he would explode in anger in a worse fashion than Calum; however, I was proven wrong as he set the file down calmly and placed his hands on the glass table before him.

One hand ran over the dirty blonde's face as obvious anger and anxiety took over the male. I pursed my lips in hesitance as I stared up, waiting for Ashton's hazel eyes to meet my blue ones. He shook his head in annoyance with his thoughts but finally gave up as he looked at me for a moment before changing his direction toward Luke.

"What's the plan?" he asked suddenly, taking Luke by shock; however, Luke recovered quickly and began to explain how the group of them would have to do it soon, using my leg recovery time as a way to loop Bob into their raid.

I zoned out once again as the boys began talking of options of killing, not wanting to become a part of the murder. While I agreed that the actions needed to be taken, I felt dirty speaking of Bob as though he weren't a person, which is how the boys approached it. Maybe referring to Bob as a 'target' as opposed to a person would make their nerves and ethical issues calm, but their use of that term only set off red flags in my mind.

Within thirty minutes, all of the plans were made and the two other boys were leaving the room with looks of anguish painted upon their faces. I didn't hear Luke approach me until he was seated beside my wheelchair, but when I looked over, I found the man I loved crying, something I never pictured would happen due to this type of conversation.

"Luke?" I asked, genuinely scared for the broken man before me. My arms encompassed his large frame, his muscles having grown a lot in the past few months. "It's okay," I whispered into his ear reassuringly. "I know that you don't want to do this," I promised him, knowing that this was hurting him despite his constant certainty that it wasn't.

"They just needed evidence," he whispered brokenly as he tried to convince himself of some sort of truth that I was missing completely.

"What?" I asked him, trying to figure out what he was on about. My eyebrows were furrowed as he moved away from my protective hold, observing his tentative movements.

"They would have killed him for you too if they had more proof," he stated as though it were the most important thing at the moment. I shook my head at him, holding his face in my hands as I came closer to him and felt my lips press against his in a soft kiss.

"This is not about me," I told him in a hushed tone. "And you don't need to worry about me," I told him in complete honesty, noting the way his blue eyes seemed to register that I was telling the truth; however, he still held a tentative look about him.

Tears once again formed in my eyes, but this time, it wasn't for Michael, it was for the man before me as he appeared to be struggling with the ghosts in his mind. Never had I considered that this would take such a toll on him; nevertheless, when I realized how this may correlate to something his father had done, I felt led to guarantee his actions validation.

"You are not him, do you hear me?" I asked him, noticing the way his head declined to move in a positive motion. I lost all of my composure as I tried to convince him of his pure heart, but I only saw the fear that he would turn into his father. "Luke," I called to him, only continuing after he looked into my eyes with tear filled ones. "I love you because you are like this, because you are good and honest." He shook his head again, but I held him in place and made him look into my eyes still.

"You said that you loved me for everything that I could and could not give to you." His eyes lit up at the words, remembering vividly how he used them several times, especially when asking me if I would marry him after this war. "Well, I love you for this," I whispered, pulling him into me closer until our foreheads were resting on each others. "I love you for the way you want to do the right thing, and I love you for your good heart."

He connected our lips, a smile finally gracing his lips as I found my peace in his features. After a moment of silence between us, I felt him stand and begin our travel back to the room. My mind raced as I thought of all the ways this could go; however, as we arrived back at the room and laid beside each other in bed, I realized my one condition and turned to him gently.

"Treat his body with respect," I spoke suddenly, watching as Luke's eyes fluttered open before having a questioning look cover their lenses.

"What?" he asked incredulously as he processed the words slowly due to his previous sleeping state.

"You aren't God," I whispered, watching as he laughed slightly at that statement. "So don't treat him like you are, and don't pretend to be the final say if he dies or lives, even if you are," I warned him, continuing on to say, "treat him with the respect that the dead deserve." He rolled his eyes at my reminder before mumbling an agreement and falling back to sleep.

I lied awake that night, knowing that somehow this decision to allow him to do this would come back to bite me in the ass.