Elena's POV
Time held no meaning as I watched my worst nightmare unfold before me.
Yet I was unfeeling.
I felt numb as I watched James grimace in pain, taking the sharp teeth and ripping claws meant for me. It was as if I was watching from outside my own body; helpless. I could hear Harry yelling, Lily shrieking, feel Charles' hand squeeze my own unbearably tight. But they held no significance.
Then, as if by some unnatural force, I watched myself lift the golden dagger and thrust it deep into the side of the hound. With a dying yelp, it loosened its jaw and turned to ash, coating the sticky blood that covered James.
I continued to feel nothing as Harry grabbed me, the five of us falling through the open in-between and out of the Fourth Realm.
<><><>
It was my fault.
It was always my fault.
"James, stay with me!" Harry's low, frantic voice ordered as the others raced to lay down James' unmoving form on the pristine white carpet. His scarlet blood splattered the surrounding floor.
Back in the familiar surroundings of the Styles flat, one would think I felt comfortable. Instead, I felt out of place; unwelcome. James' slick blood coated my hands and arms; having been thrown up to protect my face.
It should have been me.
As Lily and Harry feverishly tried to stop James' abdomen from bleeding out, Charles carefully approached me. "Elena? You okay?"
I stared at him, saying nothing. I was silent, but inside I was panicking beyond reprieve. James' skin had gone white as snow, breathing light and uneven. The slashes on his chest and abdomen had cut deep, too deep.
In that moment, I knew I was my father's daughter. For instead of saying something, suggesting or questioning, Charles grabbed me and wrapped me in a hug. I collapsed. My world swam from my view as I slipped into a peaceful unconscious, gratefully away from the nightmare that was my waking world.
I was in darkness. I didn't hear Harry shouting that he couldn't stop the blood.
I didn't see Lily weeping into her blood-covered hands.
I didn't feel my father's arms around me as I lay quietly.
I didn't see James' green eyes flutter open for the last time, flicker from Harry, to Lily, and to me.
I didn't hear him whisper my name.
And I didn't hear his heart stop beating.
But it did.
<><><>
James' POV
I was vaguely aware of shouting. I was consciously attentive to the pain in my chest.
I knew I was dying.
However, just as in the movies, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. I peeled my eyes open and saw her face, peaceful and quiet in sleep.
Elena.
I had kept her safe. She was safe now. The thought put me at peace. So I shut my eyes, took a deep breath, and let go.
"Mister? Mister.." a tiny voice said.
I pulled my eyes open, instantly shocked at the brilliance of my surroundings.
It was nature at its peak. Before the touch of man, before the taint of pollution. Grass was as green as the sky was blue, and a pristine river flowed down the valley I stood in. Artfully beautiful flowers sprouted in patches, breathtaking in simplicity.
I looked down at the little girl tugging on my arm, and gaped at myself. Gone were the slashes across my body. My skin was milky; smooth. Free of battle scars.
I was dressed in my favorite pair of jeans, and oddly enough, my beloved Ramones shirt. The blessed gold plate I wore around my neck was intact, as was the sister airplane pendant to the one Harry wore as well.
I felt normal. Better than normal.
The grass tickled my toes. "Mister," the little girl said again. Though I tried, I couldn't seem to speak just yet. The words would not come.
The child's hair was dark, small body slender. Big, brown eyes fluttered pleadingly up at me, and a white dress reached her ankles before stopping above tiny, bare feet.
"Wh-where am I?" I finally asked, my voice soft.
The little girl smiled, heart-shaped face beaming as she giggled. "Heaven."
For some odd reason, I felt no dying remorse. I felt nothing. No pain, nor regret. It was as if all the stress and anguish of my previous life had been washed away. I squatted down to the child's height, a smile on my face. "I'm James."
"I know," she said nonchalantly, tapping her chubby fingers together. "I watched you."
I was confused. "Watched me what?"
"Die."
I was in shock. How casually this little girl spoke of death, as if she'd-
Then I realized. She was also dead. And if she had been watching me, it could only mean one thing.
"My name is Serra," her musical voice trilled. "I'm your guardian angel."
Serra hummed a tune while she bent down, picking a dainty pink wildflower from the ground. Righting herself, she pulled my hand slightly so I bent to her height. Small fingers slowly pushed the curls back from my forehead, tucking the flower behind my ear.
"I tried to keep you safe," she whispered, her tiny hand trailing over my face. "But you didn't let me keep you safe. Why?"
I looked down. "I had to. I had to save.. a girl."
"Is she your girlfriend?" Serra asked in a teasing voice as children often do. I chuckled, standing to my full height. The child took my hand and began walking, tugging me easily along.
"I loved her very much."
"I know," Serra chirped, skipping along.
"What do you mean?"
"Look." Serra led me to the river that flowed by our feet. In the reflection of the stream, I saw a picture, like watching a television. I leaned curiously closer to make out what was happening, and gasped.
I saw my body, torn and bloody on the floor. Two people, a man and a woman, wept over me, but a girl lay quietly off to the side, body still in slumber. Another man sat adjacent to her. Although the image of my death was in plain sight, my eyes kept unconsciously straying to the sleeping girl. Her copper hair.
"What is her name?" I pointed. She was so familiar, yet I couldn't seem to draw up a name or place to her.
"You're not allowed to know," Serra replied with a shrug, playing with the petals of another flower that grew on the banks.
"Why?"
She looked me in the eye. "You're her guardian angel, mister. Her name doesn't matter. You just protect her."
I jerked my vision back to the river, but it was clear and blue. The image was gone.
"Is that why I'm here?"
Serra giggled, standing up. The little girl threw her arms out wide and spun in circles, long black hair flying. I couldn't help but smile, despite my confusion.
"This is Heaven, mister. Why do you think you're here?"
"Well, I died."
"We all do," Serra shrugged. She was quite philosophical for how young she was, I noted. "But why do you think you're here?" she asked again.
"I don't know," I sighed, exasperated with her misleading questions.
"I was sent here to help you," Serra eyeballed me seriously. "But I can only help you if you let me."
So I did.
This child would teach me what I needed to know. To protect this human girl, whom I already felt a strange protection for. To protect her like Serra had protected me.
I'd forgotten all my living memories; as if my brain had been wiped clean. Serra told me angels did that so our brains were pure when we came here.
"Thank you," I said quietly, as the child put a blade of grass between her thumbs and blew, a shrill whistling emanating that echoed through the valley. My gaze followed the sound waves, looking out into the sapphire sky as Serra curiously gazed at me. We sat on the soft grass, yet the plants did not scratch me. Our bare feet dangled in the icy river, yet I felt no chill.
"Thank you for what, James?"
I turned to lock eyes with the little girl. "For protecting me."
Serra shrugged, but a smile was on her face. "You're welcome."
As my vision traveled, I took in the sense of being in Heaven. My chest was lighter than it had ever felt, my head clearer, vision sharper. Everything had been magnified to appreciate the beauty of this place.
Since then, I have embraced the feeling like a blanket. It is a feeling of love, I am no longer hindered by worldly things.
I am happy.
Limitless.
Free.