Roland

Rol....

Her words still echo in my head. The words she said as she lay on the hospital bed, breathing her very last.

... my daughter, Rol...

Our daughter... I had said to her... she's ours...

...my daughter... she had still said.

"Our daughter." I tell her voice, unable to keep my head up anymore. I can't bear to lift my head in the voice's presence.

The screams... the gun shots... the whole scene...

Even after one and a half day, all still floats in front of my eyes as if it has just happened mere seconds ago.

"I couldn't." I tell the voice, as another tear slips from my eye, joining the rest which have already slipped down my face to my collar.

She had fallen dead in my arms. My daughter—our daughter, the only person I had ever cared about after her mother. Julia had fallen lifeless into my arms and I couldn't do anything about it other than shake her, trying to wake her up, pleading all those around me to please call an ambulance. Some one, anyone...

None did...

They were all too busy screaming and yelling, running away from the scene, because just then, two loud gun shots thundered near by and the Hunt boy fell.

I remember that scene too.

Two loud thunderous gun shots....sight of blood oozing out of the wounds as the boy fell back and hit his head against the floor... the bystanders screaming as the colour drained from young Hunt's face... the event manager lady yelling fanatically behind me in her phone, calling the police and an ambulance...

Two ambulances, I wanted to yell at her, the boy has been shot too, but I couldn't.

I couldn't take my eyes off my precious little girl.

"Julia... Julia..." I called her name over and over. But she wouldn't wake up. The blood from her head had made my pants red, even though her friend Simon was continuously applying pressure on the wound with his coat.

My Jules... my daughter.

"Get away!" I had yelled at the couple when McKay and his wife had tried to help me lift my daughter up when the ambulance arrived.

"Please Ron—"

"No!" I growled at the man, watching his son sitting white in the face on his knees near the young Hunt's pool of blood. His eyes looked like they would fall out of his skull.

Disbelief... I recognised his expression.

He should be ashamed! Yelled a voice in my head. His fault... it's all their fault... The McKay's did this to my daughter...

My daughter, Ron... Sandra's voice echos in my head again ... protect her... care for her... my daughter...

"I've failed you." I tell the voice. I've failed her.

... my daughter Rol... take care of her...

"I'm s-sorry.." my voice breaks as tears start to rain again from my eyes, and my body starts to shake. "I-I'm so so s-Sorry..."

Anna

"Raphael!" I call after him, as he slams the car door shut. "Raphael wait!!" But he doesn't listen.

Stomping his way on the concrete foot-walk, he makes his way to the hospital entrance.

"Follow us after locking the car." I tell Sophia, who is sitting in the back, rummaging through her bag for something.

"Yes Mom." She says.

Maybe she nods too, but I don't see it, as I'm already out of the car following my husband.

"Raphael!" I call after him, but he doesn't turn. He just keeps on walking.

I fasten my pace, following him, trying to catch up, because of he reaches before...

No.. I tell myself. Don't go there... you'll reach before that.

At the entrance gate, breathing hard, I look around to see Raphael standing at the information desk, tapping his foot against the tiled floor, waiting for the boy behind the desk to tell him about the ward number.

The hospital is small, but the lady— nurse on the phone who had informed us of the incident has said that he was bought here because it was nearest.

"Raphael." I reach him just in time for him to turn and sprint down a near by corridor to the stair case. He's breathing is taking much effort, but being him, he doesn't seem to care.

"Raphael, please!" I grab a hold of his shirt from the back and tug, trying not to fall over while trying to keep up with him. "Think with a cool min—"

"My son." He growls possessively, not stopping, not slowing down. "My son is there, dead!"

"Raphael!" I tug him back, but he run's up the stairs, two at a time, leaving me behind again. All the people who are coming or going turn their heads to look at the two of us. A passing by Nurse glares at me probably for yelling in the hospital.

"Raphael!" I still call after him, running again to catch up.

ICU...

I see the signs, as I pass by.

He's been through surgery, ma'am, the nurse on the phone had said. I'm sorry...

"Raphael!" I call him as I arrive, gasping for air on the top stairs. My heart is beating in my ears and my knees hurt now. Age seems to weigh me down. But if my husband meets Ronald in my absence, and especially under these circumstances, my son would have no father to burry him.

There will be blood shed...

"No no no..." I mumble, realising that Raphael is already at the end of the corridor, where Ronald, unfortunately, is sitting on a bench, his head on his knees, slightly shaking.

"Garfield!" Raphael growls, and I— despite my uneven breath— spring forth to stop him.

Ronald

"Garfield!" Some one growls and I lift up my head to see none other then Raphael Hunt, stomping his way over to me, his fists and jaw clenched.

What does he want now? Is it not enough that my precious daughter died in my arms.

I stand up from my place, seeing Anna following him too, huffing and puffing, running as fast as she can.

"How could you!" Raphael is suddenly at me, and the next instant, my head hits the wall behind me as I get grabbed by my collar and shoved into it, almost tripping because of the chair behind my knees.

Pain shoots through my head and tears well up my eyes. For a second, the world spins around me.

I shove back with both my hands, getting Raphael off me, and then I punch him in the face to match the pain at the back of my head now. He stumbles back, and his hand raises to his mouth only coming back to see blood.

"You—" he growls and tries to attack again, but this time, his arm gets pulled back mid way and—

Slap!!!

The sound echoes all across the corridor, as Anna's hand touches his cheek.

What— but I have no time to react as she pushes me back too, and I fall onto the bench behind me.

"What in hell do you two think you're doing??" She yells.

I flinch. Silence follows her question. Such a deep silence that I can hear the tube light at the end of the corridor flickering. Enough to register that she had been loud enough to wake the dead.

Ive never seen her talk like that before.

Hunt seems shocked too. His hand his on his cheek, and he's looking at his wife disbelievingly.

"Do you even care why you are here??" Anna shoves Hunt back again with both her hands, but doesn't manage to make much of a difference. Hunt just takes a small step back, petrified.

Anna looks... terrifying. Her eyes seem to be on fire and the rage dripping from her every word..

God...

She's still as beautiful as I remember. Short, blue eyes, round face, pinkish cheeks and... And that rage... thats new. All that anger. Has she been storing it all these years?

If she is, I don't want it to come out at me.

"He started it." I tell Anna. "He attacked me."

"You had my son shot!" Hunt yells at me, pointing a finger at me.

"Enough!" Anna yells, holding her arms up. "Both of you! I've has enough of this mess. Your children are dead!!dead!!"

Then her voice drops to a growl. A deep feminine growl.

"Two decades!" Anna continues, holding up two fingers. "More than Two goddamned decades this has been going on."

What—

"And I'm sick of it!" She stomps her foot, mere inches away from mine. I flinch. "Look at you two!! Two goddamned teenagers— children!! Children fighting over a toy!"

"What are you—" Hunt tries to say.

"You know exactly what I talking about mister!!" Anna yells, her jaw clenched so hard her skin is going red. "This is all because of you two! If you had just allowed them, this wouldn't have happened!" She points to the closed door behind her which leads to Julia's room, tears welling up in her eyes.

"If—" She yells, fanatic. "—you two had been better fathers, you would've kept your  children out of this feud!!" Tears start to flow from her eyes, but she wipes them away, still yelling, "If they hadn't been forced to two this by the two of you, they wouldn't have to hide it! They would'nt've been here! My son would'nt've been here..."

With that her voice breaks, the fire in her eyes drowns in tears as she falls down to her knees, sobbing and shaking. A mother cries over her son's dead body.

"My son..." she cries, burying her head in her knees.

As an instinct, I look over at Hunt to find him looking at me. Shocked—too shocked to register what has happened. There is a silent agreement, one I can not clearly decipher, but I know what it means....

Later... I'll deal with you later...

Anna sobs again, mumbling her son's names over and over.

Suddenly, Hunt is by her side on his knees, wrapping his arms around her, and I—

I just sit there and watch a silently sobbing father trying comfort a mother when their son is dead too, while I, also a father who's lost his daughter, do nothing but sob with them.