Hey guys.

I figured I would stay alive to finish this series.

Bet you can guess who Emma's romantic interest is going to be. *wink* *wink*

Please vote and comment.

So there were four of us left.

Oliver helped me up, and Dillan rushed to my side, his hand around Nahara's. The two flanked me, helping me push through the wreckage. We had to get out before the engine caught fire, and before anyone arrived to help the survivors. I limped towards the gaping hole towards the front where the actually truck part had went back and gashed through the box from the impact. Oliver fought not to fall to his knees, fought to make the muscles in his legs work for me. I could tell by the way he shook. Dillan and Nahara both seemed to be okay, except for some gashes in their flesh that didn't seem to be too fatal. Together, we pushed through until we got to the part connecting the truck and the cargo. We jumped down singularly from there. First Dillan, then me, than Nahara. Although I was in no condition to do so, I caught Oliver when he forced the jump so he wouldn't hurt himself any worse than he had.

I set him back on the ground gently, and when I looked up at him, he had tears in his single showing blue eye. "Did you hurt yourself? What's wrong?" I came off a tad irritable. This time, I regretted it.

Oliver shook his head stiffly. "I failed... You got hurt..."

"Fango and Delta are in more danger than me right now," I limped to his side so he could lean on me, putting an arm around his shoulder. "We have to go..."

I looked up. Chills shook my body when I saw Dillan. He had given in and was on his knees, choking on sobs. Tears ran hot down his face, and his purple eyes were open wide. There was a sort of weakness in seeing a strong person collapse on themselves that was impossible to fight again. I turned my head the other way, clutching Oliver even more surely.

"Do you think... that..." Dillan sniffed deeply and choked on a few more sobs before wiping his eyes. "Fango and Delta got hurt?"

Nahara tugged him up, then kissed his cheek. "We need to go. Quickly!"

Oliver and I limped against each other, forcing ourselves to make a quick escape of the wreckage. None of us stopped, even after we had passed the grass. Even after we had passed the road. We never stopped, until we entered the cemetery. Then we collapsed, and cried all we wanted.

***

The parade started too near to the cemetery to even be respectful.

I shook in place, hunched back against the other side of one of the cross tombstones. My eyes burned, and I saw as a droplet of salty wetness fell onto the smooth palm of my hand. Why am I crying? I took a deep breath, dipping my head enough to hide my face with a curtain of curly blonde hair. I wiped my blurry eyes with my thumbs, trying to drown out the sound of Dillan sobbing with the sounds of the parade nearby.

I barely knew Delta and Fango... And I know they are okay... Why am I crying? Is it because... Dillan's crying..? I took a breath, knotting my fingers into the grass.

I felt a hand touch my shoulder with a much different force than Oliver had. I jumped at the strange feeling, just to realize that it was Nahara. I glanced up at her, lifting my thin eyebrows in surprise. "What do you want?"

"Do you always have to be such a hard-ass?" the she-angel smiled gingerly, then turned to the tombstone that I leaned up against. Her fingernails went over the chipping stone, and her eyes narrowed solemnly. "What exactly are you fighting for?"

"You should be comforting Dillan."

"He will be taken care off. Oliver is with him, and the guy is like a teddy bear... But we need to talk, little sis." She stopped for a minute, and I turned to look over her. Her wide, icy blue eyes skipped over the grave the way a stone did over a river. Her fingers slipped over the stone, and my emotions flared, causing the breeze to lift her brown below-the-waist-length hair. "Listen, Emma... What are you fighting for?"

"I am fighting for Mary." I told her, but those words writhed on my tongue the way a lie did to an inexperienced fibber's.

Nahara glared daggers at me. "I didn't ask what you used to fight for. You probably haven't figured it out yet... But we all have a reason." Finally, she took her hand away from the gravestone. "I fight for Croma because I don't want to see all these legacies become forgotten." She gestured towards the rest of the land, where stones stood erect in the waning light. "Do you know how many legacies died here? How many wonderful people just... ended? I fight so that this entire world breathes and makes legacies. I am nothing special. Many, many people fight like this, but against depression and diseases and suicide. My fight is much easier, and more necessary."

I followed her gaze. What did I see here? People resting in the ground? After I got Mary back, I sure as hell wasn't leaving. So why stay? What was I fighting for?

Dillan's choking sob caught my attention. In immediate response, I stood up. I left Nahara, and my feet stubbornly found their way towards him. I motioned for Oliver to step aside, and then crouched beside Dillan. Sympathetic, I put my hand on his shoulder.

He blinked up at me with was wet purple eyes. I could see the dark circles under his eyes in the moonlight, which I hadn't noticed before. "You weren't supposed to see my like this. I stay strong for everybody. I'm sorry... There's only four of us left... I failed..."

"How do you think I felt when Mary was lost? You can't give up on them." I took his arm and with a jerk, I forced him to stand up. "You and Nahara get some alone time. It will help. Oliver and I will leave you two alone. And we can camp out in the mausoleum. We can deal with what happens tomorrow, okay?"

Dillan sniffed, and smiled deeply. "You're awful at this... But your ideas aren't too bad. Yeah... I don't see the Dark hurting such valuable people. Yeah..."

I smiled encouragingly and looked back at Oliver. "Come on, we better go."

***

My Apotropaic had his hands in his pockets, inwardly fiddling with a box of cigarettes. One hung out of his mouth, the plume of gray curving up with the air. His hood stretched over his messy white hair, and the single uncovered blue eye blinked in the rainbow lights. I stood beside him, his head at my neck. My hands were in the pockets of my jeans as I glanced up at the parade floats setting into the street before us. The floats were presented at random, and I hadn't the slightest clue what exactly this one celebrated.

There were people on top of each float, waving frantically and shouting, beaming in almost ignorant happiness. Huge lights flashed with colored plastic over them, coloring the beams.

Oliver nudged me. "Do you really think the two of then will be okay?"

"Dillan and Nahara or Fango and Delta?" I asked, crossing my arms over my flat chest. "All of them will be okay, I think. We are so close. We just have to hope the Dark Army hasn't relocated."

Oliver took the cigarette out of his mouth and tapped the ashes off. "You know that if they haven't, this is all a trap?"

"I don't care. We can fight that! We have fought every single General there is, all four. We can fight them again, even if there are less of us." I waved the smoke away, and Oliver immediately crushed the cigarette. "Believe in me. I ask you to believe in me this once."

He gave me a weak smile, obviously approving of my determination but loathing the actual plan. "I believe in you all the time, Emma. Just..." He sighed. "Nevermind. We should just take things as they come, right? I trust you."

The approaching sound of the marching band broke the awkward conversation, and we both glanced up at the huge parade float following them. People, standing erect, plowed their instruments in a variety of French horns and tubas, flutes and saxophones, drums and more. They swallowed up the sounds all around them, and the earth seemed to vibrate around us. Oliver reached out for my hand, glancing up at me with a smile. I returned his glance, then gazed back at the instruments. Mary used to play a French horn before all of this. And I use to act while she practiced. Those sounds always caused me such comfort and helped me focus. It was beautiful.

Oliver gripped my shoulder with a sudden force. "Up there, on the float!"

I barely acknowledged him, but I did follow his direction to scan over the float with my eyes. Above us, waving wildly at the crowd, was the Dark general Satan.

"Not him..." I groped my side, suddenly realizing I had left my sword back at the graveyard. "Damn it!"

Oliver broke into a run in front of me, a desperate blur on the wind. I shouted for him, but he didn't seem to hear me. Either that, or he simply blocked me out. Leg after leg streaked until he leaped up and attached himself to the float.

"Shit, Oliver!" I began to trudge after him, but an officer grabbed me. I froze, cold.

"Who is that man?" the officer demanded.

"My boyfriend! He forgot to take his pills!" It was the first thing I thought up.

A shriek rose up, and I glanced up, fearing for the worse. The inflated float was coming down