• ---'You were supposed to protect me,' Jane said. 'Where were you when I needed you?'
    ---"No!"
    ---James sat upright in bed, gasping for air, the yell issuing from his throat. Sweat poured down his face, down his bare chest. The thirty-year-old reached up with an unsteady hand and wiped the sweat from his eyes, smearing it all over his face, over his mouth. The salty liquid stung his dry lips.
    ---James tossed the bed covers aside viciously and swung his legs over the bed. The moment his feet touched the cold floor, he was on his feet, staggering towards the door. Sleep no longer clung to him, and he could feel the blood rushing to his head as his circulation changed from their horizontal course to their normal vertical course. He seized an unused shirt and a pair of jeans on his way out the bedroom door, hopping around as he slipped the pants on.
    ---The house was dark, aside from some stray moonbeams that peeked through the blinds that covered the windows. James stumbled down the stairs, nearly tripping and falling forward as he groped around in the darkness. He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, his breathing labored. He stepped into his shoes and hastily tied the laces, his movements jerky and frantic. The words from his dream still echoed in his ears, haunting him. His deep, steel grey eyes flitted around, as if he expected something--or someone--to attack him.
    ---Jumping to his feet again, James snatched his leather jacket from the back of a chair and grabbed his car keys, the noise of the clinking metal keys unusually loud. As he stepped out of the house, he glanced at the illuminated clock on the wall. It read 3:30 AM.
    ---He was compelled to keep moving and continue the task he had set about to do, his nightmare driving him to get in his Lexus and head towards a familiar street. The whole city was dark, the lamplights having been extinguished by a blackout. There were few cars on the street, and James pushed the speedometer up to sixty miles per hour, careening the corners dangerously and, yet, expertly. He finally pulled up in front of a small house and killed the engine.
    ---James leapt out of the car and jogged to the back of the house. He hopped the fence easily, his six-foot-three-inch frame easily overtaking the height. His feet landed on the ground with a clap, and dust and dirt expanded into a cloud around his legs. He crept his way across the backyard, conscious that tripping over something might wake up the residents in the house. He approached the window on the far left and peered through it, dropping down to his knees so he could see better.
    ---A girl, no older than fifteen, sat up in her bed, staring at the opposite wall. Her brown hair cascaded about her shoulders, reaching midway down her back. The blankets had been tossed aside, much like the way James had tossed his aside, and lay in a heap on the unoccupied side of the bed. Close enough to the window that his breath steamed it, James gently tapped the glass.
    ---The girl twisted around abruptly and stared for a moment, her brown eyes looking through the window at James. Upon registering the man's face, the girl rolled off of the bed, her pajama pants swishing inaudibly as she went over to the window. Her brown knit in puzzlement and surprise, the girl pushed the window and the mesh aside.
    ---"James?" she asked, her voice breathless.
    ---"Jane," James answered, reaching his hand forward. "Are you all right?"
    ---"I'm better now," she whispered. "Are you?"
    ---James swallowed and nodded his head, his hand grasping the girl's hand. Pulling her hand towards him, he pressed her knuckles against his forehead and exhaled heavily.
    ---"I had a nightmare," James explained quietly, "that...that you died, and I couldn't save you."
    ---Jane was quiet for a moment, before stating, "Me, too."
    ---They lapsed into silence, and Jane crouched to wrap her arms around James's neck. The adult drew the teenager close to him, knowing how dangerous it was if Jane's parents woke up and saw them. His intentions with their daughter were not what they probably thought it was. He felt a paternal instinct over the girl, and his need to protect her only grew with each day. He was her friend, one of her closest companions, and he wanted to stay that way, nothing more, nothing less.
    ---"You shouldn't be here," Jane finally said. "I don't even know how you found out where I lived. If my parents knew or saw..."
    ---"I know." James tightened his hold around her. "Just...let me hold you a little longer." He kissed the girl's cheek. "I will always protect you--I love you."
    ---"I love you, too," Jane responded, kissing him on the cheek in return.
    ---They held the embrace for a while longer before James disentangled himself from her arms and stood up. Jane slid the mesh and window back into place and pressed her hand against the glass. James did the same, and they kept the imaginary contact for a second. Smiling warmly at the teen, James turned and exited the backyard, feeling much better than he had moments before.

    ~~~~~~~~

    ---James approached the headstone two weeks later, the drizzling rain oblivious to him. A man and a woman turned to face him, and he regarded them with a tortured gaze.
    ---"I wish I had been there," James said, his voice subdued. "I might've been able..."
    ---He couldn't finish the sentence. The woman stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him for a moment, tears in her eyes. The man, once the woman had released James, stretched his arm forward, his eyes glistening as well. Their previous suspicion and dismay had dissipated. James shook the man's hand and watched them leave. When they had left his sight, he turned back to the headstone.
    ---Unable to contain it any longer, James fell to his knees and cried, the hot tears streaming down his face unchecked. He grabbed the headstone with his hands and pressed his forehead against the cold stone, the indentations of Jane's name pressing into his skin. The sobs wrenched themselves from his chest and throat; his cries were strangled with true sorrow and grief.
    ---"I should've been there, Jane!" he exclaimed, gasping for air. "I should've been there! I swore to protect you, and I didn't! I failed!"
    ---Any passerby might've considered him insane, might've considered that his grief was so completely overwhelming that he might commit suicide. James had considered it, but he couldn't do it. Ending his life would do nothing for the ended life of Jane.
    ---"I failed, I failed...," he muttered to himself, collapsing against the headstone; he slid down to its base and gently kissed the stone. "I should've listened to my dream, Jane. I should've listened to my dream." He inhaled deeply. "I failed..."